Ill Winds
by dustywalker
Summary: Ostagar was fought to a standstill, with the lack of key allies forcing a different strategy. Now that the Grey Wardens lie dead, their recruits must unite to enforce their treaties. Meanwhile, Cailan has no idea of the gathering treachery that awaits Ferelden. (AU, All-Origins, Wardens : Alistair, M!Mahariel, M!Brosca, Anders. Very "For Want of a Nail" approach to game-canon)
1. The Recruits

**Disclaimer - All BioWare's property, I'm just playing with their toys.**

**A/N - Another all-Origins story, just not all-Wardens. Other Origin characters show up later/DA2 characters if they fit. (Trying to bend the time-line, without ignoring it.)**

* * *

'Amazing how some things don't change', Alistair thought to himself as he crossed the camp. 'Still running around at the Revered Mother's whim...' He looked over to notice Gregor approaching.

"Alistair, where are you going?"

"I was asked to deliver a message."

The larger man shook his head, "The Mother can find an actual runner, you need to get the recruits prepared for the Joining."

"We aren't waiting for Duncan?" "No – I've no idea how much this weather's going to delay him, and the Taint is getting worse for that Elf he had you bring here."

"You're right – perhaps he's thought better of travelling to Highever, and turned around at Denerim."

Gregor nodded, "The King's already antsy enough without the troops from Redcliff, Highever and Amaranthine, let's hope Duncan's not far out. The recruits are waiting by the south gate; I'll leave it in your hands."

Alistair turned, returning to the main camp 'Five untested people to wrangle, one of them sick – great, maybe that whiny knight can take over after I get stuck up a tree.. Probably without pants, somehow.'

He quickly found Daveth, failing another conquest while Jory stood to one side frowning at the display. "Never know who you'll know, without trying, I say" the rogue smirked "so, where are these mysterious others – all I know so far is one's an Elf."

"I met a Dwarf recruit earlier – he seemed to trade food to a prisoner for something."

Daveth nodded, "I think I saw him he was sniffing around the Mage camp before they shooed him off. Speaking of which, those three are watching us. Perhaps the girl is who we want?"

"Don't get your hopes up; all today's recruits are male Even the Dalish."

Jory's face dropped at the idea of a spell-caster "A Mage? I didn't think..."

'Restrained sigh counter: 12 points for Ser Knight' Alistair inwardly groaned as a male Mage walked over. He suddenly stopped and gave a final wave to the female Magi. "Later days, Wynne. Surana, I'll try to write... if the world isn't too big".

"Do try to not get _lost_ from your new duties, Anders" the elderly Mage replied with a set gaze. Laughing, he reached the others. "So then, shall we move on before the exemplary Templary get ideas about taking me back?"

* * *

"Dalish? No doubt, that charming fellow who threatened to gut the quarter-master, when he spoke to him as a servant earlier?" Daveth asked, pointing to the Mabari kennels. "Over there." They stopped by the fence, as the Dalish archer muzzled a hound.

"How very difficult..." he muttered, exiting the pen. Joining the group, he frowned as the Hound-Keeper spoke up. "If you're going into the Wilds, don't forget that flower I mentioned. We can see about imprinting him, if you like?"

Recognising Alistair, the Elf glared "Show me a proper task, before some other useless Shem comes asking me to wipe their rear."

'Amazing how he can still get so dark in anger, while so pale from sickness... just move on, Alistair'

* * *

"5 coppers and some plant leaves? Who needs this locked up?" the Dwarf asked, showing the contents of a chest he had forced open before they found him.

"Same person who left a chest in that dank little corner, and not the actual camp?" Daveth offered.

"Hmm – probably makes sense to Cloud-Heads." Dropping a lock-pick back into his belt pouch, he looked around the assembled group.

'Better make sure I've got the names down.' Alistair thought. "Let's get basic introductions done, if we need to call out to each other." He pointed to each recruit. "Daveth, Anders, Theron, Ser Jory, and our latest friend here is Faren."

"Just call me Brosca." They all nodded and headed for the gate.

* * *

'This is taking forever... do we try finding the scrolls, or head back before its dark?' Alistair wondered, watching in frustration as Jory made another pass at scooping his flask through the blood puddling from a Hurlock's body without getting any of the liquid on his gauntlet. Daveth stood above him, groaning openly "It's going to dry up at this rate – just shove your hand in there!"

Brosca joined Alistair on the log. "How'd you get stuck on this job? You enjoy herding Nugs as well?" he laughed, handing over his filled vial.

"It's just the joys of being the junior Warden, I guess."

They both turned as Theron finally spoke, leaning against a tree. "A Dwarf, An infected Dalish, a leashed Mage, a pickpocket and an imbecile – Creators forbid that those high and mighty Shemlen back in camp do anything dangerous themselves." He waved to get Alistair's attention back from the tree-line. "Are those branches interesting, are they?"

"Sorry, I thought that… forget it."

"I agree with the Dwarf's question – you seem sane enough, for a Shem, how did you get stuck here?"

"Duncan recruited me from the Templars before I finished training – and I'm _glad_ to be a Warden" he added, pointedly.

"So our leader's a Mage-Hunter? Better watch yourself, friend" Daveth joked to Anders, as they handed over three bottles. "Got one for you as well" he told Theron, who simply nodded in thanks.

"We gave up, and shoved him out of the way" Anders said, as Jory finally walked over. Alistair wiped the dripping bottle off with a rag, and added it to the others while bracing himself for Jory's complaints about the state of his gauntlets. Before he could say anything, they all turned at the sound of Theron collapsing to the ground.

'Damn – better get him back to camp while there's still time.' Alistair tipped out his bag and rummaged through the heap for bandages, while sending Anders off to collect two of the crude staves from the Emissaries they dispatched earlier. Realising his intent, Brosca crouched down and began unrolling the bandages. Anders returned, placing down his find, and they began wrapping them in several spots to fashion a crude stretcher. "Daveth, Jory, you carry him. Brosca, you take the lead."

Anders sighed, and handed over his gloves to cut off Jory's moan about being bare-handed after ditching his blood-soaked gauntlets. "I'll keep him topped up with healing spells… Alistair?" he tapped the Warden on the shoulder, who just kept his eyes on a tree.

"Maybe I'm crazy, but I'm sure that squirrel has been watching us the whole time…"

"It's probably just waiting for us to leave" Anders offered.

"Maybe – it's just… creepy. Like it's planning something."

"What – you expect woodland rodents to swoop down at its signal?"

"Well, swooping _is_ bad… Just forget it" Alistair muttered, stuffing dropped items back into his bag.

The squirrel watched the Humans gather up the last of the loose gear. 'Responsive, resourceful and perceptive? Perhaps that one 'tis not so dim-witted after all' it thought, moving up the branch for a view of the others. As the robed Human joined the procession, the squirrel turned back in time to notice the last Human stare down at a piece of cheese in the grass. He glanced at the unwatching group, and retrieved it. Dusting it off and then taking a large bite, he slipped the dried chunk into a pocket.

Taking another look at the squirrel, he muttered "Don't you judge me" in between chewing and headed off towards his companions.

'Ugghhh….. Seems my first impression was correct after all', the squirrel shuddered, before heading deeper into the Wilds.


	2. After the Joining

Theron slowly stirred, the screeching beast vanishing from memory as his vision returned. Flickering awake, he looked up at the Wardens standing around him. While helped to his feet, he glanced around the group. 'Mage, dwarf… perhaps those two noisy Shem have gone ahead.'

Before Theron could ask about them, Alistair handed over an amulet. "We keep these, as a memory of those who didn't survive the Joining."

He stood aside as Gregor approached, offering out a hand. "Welcome to the Grey Wardens, brother." The bearded giant pointed to a bundle lying on a bench. "We'll be able to prepare fitted tunics in Denerim, but you should all find something passable until then." Alistair moved to Gregor, "We've got guests."

"Ho there, Gregor!" Cailan called out as he walked up the ramp, followed briskly by Loghain. "These are the new Wardens?"

"Yes, your majesty. Allow me to introduce…"

"No need to be so formal. I'm glad to welcome you all; Wardens are needed now more than ever."

Loghain groaned, "Pleasantries another time, Cailan. We need to attend to more immediate matters."

"Very well Loghain, as you insist."

Theron suddenly stepped forward, "Loghain MacTir?" Everyone turned, as Loghain nodded. "An honour, ser. I'm told my grandfather served in the Night Elves for you."

Loghain's face almost softened, "With. They fought with me." He waved Theron up with a hand and returned to his usual posture. "We're still without the forces to arrive from Redcliff, Highever and Amaranthine to arrive, so we've delayed planned offensives for now."

Cailan cut in, "And we await Duncan, of course."

Loghain continued, "However, scouts report the Darkspawn horde is still massing out there. We must brace the barricades and prepare for an attack tonight. I will take my force out and patrol a perimeter while the King leads the camp's defences. If a large force presses the camp, I will need to return quickly."

"We've prepared a beacon atop the Tower of Ishal; we simply need someone to light it if needed. We should send Alistair and the new Wardens to see it done."

Theron hissed a whisper to Alistair, "So I get dragged from my clan through death and disease, and your 'important calling' is to play servant-Elf."

"Keep your voice down, and relax. Anders and Brosca are going, clearly it's not an 'Elf thing'."

"Right, because Shemlen care so much about Dwarves and Mages." Theron shot back, loud enough to be heard by the others.

Cailan just smiled weakly, "If you remain unconvinced, Alistair is going as well. There are no differences in my army."

Theron, trying to maintain his bluster, replied "hmmf – for all I know, his mother's an Elf."Unnoticed by the others, Loghain just gave him an imperceptible stare at this comment.

"Actually, I was raised by dogs. Giant, slobbering dogs, from the Anderfels."

Brosca looked up at him, "Dogs?"

"Flying dogs, actually. Surprisingly strict, too. Devout Andrastians, to boot."

"Dogs?"

Anders looked at Brosca for a second, and pointed into camp. "Those animals we passed, in the kennels earlier." Brosca nodded in understanding.

Gregor finally saw a safe point to interject, and stepped forward. "Keep in mind; none of you have had adequate training or official induction at Weisshaupt. King Cailan, they will fulfil this assignment." He added a stare to the recruits, to end any further argument. "Alistair, make sure they're prepared. We must go, to discuss further strategy."

As Gregor and Loghain left, Cailan turned back briefly, "Alistair… Maker watch over you."

Stunned, Alistair stared briefly before replying. "Maker guide you, your Majesty."

Loaded up with their new armour and second-hand tunics, the Wardens shuffled off to the Tower. Brosca smirked most of the way, before finally commenting. "You know, I half-expected our Mage to be the one who'd shock the King by losing his cool and exploding in front of everyone."

Anders laughed, replying "Well, the day isn't done yet. Maybe I'll surprise you."


	3. Ishal

Anders looked over Theron, who stood at a window to watch the soldiers down on the ground. "So, what's his story?"

Alistair shrugged. "Duncan didn't give me all the particulars. He found him out in the forestry, somehow Tainted."

"The mirror." They looked up at the soft response, as Theron turned. "My clan-brother, Tamlen, and I were hunting in the Brecilian forest. Some Shemlen we came across told us about some odd ruins. After we let them pass, Tamlen insisted we investigate. There was some sort of ancient mirror there, and Tamlen walked up to look at it… he suddenly panicked, and screamed that something was staring back at him. All I remember after that is a flash of light, and waking up in camp." He swallowed, noiselessly. "It had been two days, and nobody had been able to find Tamlen at all. This Duncan, he told us something had infected me and only the Joining could save me. The Keeper insisted I come, 'this Blight threatens us all'. So here I am, guarding a pyre for some Shem King. Even if all goes well, I'll never find my clan again. Those Shemlen I let pass, before Tamlen could harm them – they went home and raised their village against us, I guess letting them leave peacefully was a death threat. The Keeper will have moved everyone somewhere else… until the next Shem town knows Dalish are near, so they have to break out the pitchforks and torches."

* * *

Theron returned to his vantage point, while Brosca finished sharpening a blade. "For me – it was this or dying in a cell. Back in Orzammar, I was one of the casteless. Wasn't easy, but I managed to keep my family from starving." He put away his sharpening stone and looked up at the others. "My employer, Beraht, sent me to fix a Proving tournament so his bets would win. His fighter was too drunk to stand, so I took his place, in his armour. I won, but the fool somehow got loose of his room and barged out into the Arena right before the last fight. The guards forced everyone to remove their helmets… turned out the final opponent was Princess Sereda." He shook his head bitterly "A sodding Royal Honour Proving… nobody, and _nobody_ messes with those and gets past the number of guards assigned. My partner, Leske, I have no idea what happened to him. I was being marched straight to the dungeons when Gregor got involved. He invoked Conscription, saying my skill in the Proving made me a worthy candidate. Luckily, my sister was in the Commons for some reason – I was able to say goodbye… I'll send most of my pay back to her." He paused, "We do get paid, don't we?"

Alistair nodded, "We get a stipend, based on service and tenure. Not a great deal, since we're fed and equipped for free."

* * *

Brosca turned to Anders, "How about you? I stayed at the lake inn, so I didn't see your recruitment."

Anders shrugged. "Pure luck, I think. I had tried another escape attempt – it's a hobby out of boredom, mostly. So I was relegated to my usual cell. I overheard some news – some of the trusted mages were allowed to come to Ostagar to help. Like those two you saw me talking to earlier. The main gossip was about Irving's prize student, she passed her Harrowing quicker than most."

Brosca asked, "Was that the young Elf girl?"

"Surana? No. This was Amell. Solona. 'Surana, Solona'. Some of us would sing it as a greeting if they were sitting together." Anders sighed. "I don't think she'll be allowed to do anything for a while… if things go well for her."

Alistair stopped and looked at him, "I was recruited before properly joining the Templars, but there's only one thing you can mean."

Brosca noticed the dark expression they shared. "This isn't anything good?"

"No, he's thinking about Tranquillity. They cut a Mage off from the Fade, so they can't use magic. But the side-effects…"

"A Tranquil loses all emotions as well; it's like watching a puppet controlled by a sleep-walker."

Brosca sat thoughtfully, and tapped his forehead. "They have a weird mark, up here?" They nodded, so he continued. "I met one, actually. Down in the camp – I thought he was Lyrium-addled, but that…."

Trying to dispel the sudden gloom, Anders returned to his story. "From what I understand, one of her friends decided to escape for real. When the Templars moved to stop him, he used Blood Magic against them and ran. Poor Amell wasn't involved, but the Knight-Commander thought she knew something. Maybe thinks she's a Blood Mage too, since they were friends. Irving managed to hold off any punishment until the Senior Enchanters all return after this battle is done, and they can pass a decision. Gregoir probably agreed just to stem any further debate amongst the Mages in the tower." He scratched his head, adding "Apparently, the bearded Warden failed to recruit her during this argument. He tried asking her again, in the dungeons. Gregoir found out and stopped him. I saw an opportunity and volunteered as they were walking out, past my cell. Amazingly, Gregoir didn't fight the idea… maybe he was glad to be rid of my petty nonsense after the day he'd had?"

Alistair watched him for a second, "So – can we expect a lot of escape attempts?"

"No, my friend – I'm out in the air, with actual conversation and a chance to do something with my skills beyond the same casting test routines every week."

Theron suddenly pointed to the pyre. "Those Darkspawn, they're forming up and watching the gates. We better light up the signal."

Several flaming arrows flew overhead. Alistair grabbed the tinder-kit, nodding. "There's the pre-signal signal."

Anders motioned him away from the pyre. "Allow me", he said as a small flame shot from his hand and set the pile ablaze.


	4. Amongst the battle

Loghain watched silently from a rise, overlooking the road towards Ostagar, as the Darkspawn pressed further against the camp barricades. Seeing the second gate splinter under their onslaught, he lowered his spyglass and turned to his lieutenant. "Sound the retreat."

Cauthrein looked up to the blazing beacon in shock, "But… what of the King?"

"Do as I command" he barked, staring down her look of resistance.

* * *

Alistair stared down at the raging battle at the base of the Tower, while Theron and Anders leaned over the ledge to fire arrows and Spirit Bolts down into the Horde as they moved towards the bridge. Brosca stood a slight distance back, watching them. "Sod this, I'm going down there."

Theron nodded and walked over, adding "It's too hard for an accurate mark at this distance, especially with the wind." Before Alistair could remind them of the order to stay put, the great doors shattered to reveal a raging Ogre.

* * *

Cailan continued to hack away at any approaching Genlocks, despite feeling himself tire. At the insistence of the two women who had made themselves his guardians, he took a quiet moment for an elixir offered by the mage. 'Surana, someone called her before the other Magi took to defending the bridge.' He looked over at the redheaded soldier. 'Can't remember this one' just as she turned to face him as well.

"I believe that's all that managed to get to this camp, Your Majesty."

"I thank both of you. Surana, will your fellows need your aid?"

Surprised at being addressed by the King, the young Elf shook her head. "No, Sire, I was told to remain at your side."

* * *

Loghain turned, noticing the troops had stopped marching. He turned to Cauthrein in annoyance, before following her gaze. Down on the road, a sizable host of soldiers rode hard towards Ostagar. Swearing, he retrieved his spyglass to inspect their condition. 'Enough to break the line, but can they actually turn the battle? Flying the Amaranthine standard… Howe, you bastard, what is this?' Noticing Cauthrein's iron gaze upon him, he sighed inwardly. "Get the troops down there; we may still win this night." She nodded, her face still saying everything on her mind.

* * *

Alistair kicked at the Ogre's body warily, still staring at its face. Anders whistled his amazement again and turned to their Dalish companion. "Nice shot. Shots." He nodded to the three arrows that remained embedded in the creature's right eye.

"When you know how to catch a bolting deer in the neck, something like this may as well be target practice."

Brosca stood by the doorway, watching the stairs. They all froze as a horn sounded. "Reinforcements, finally?" Anders asked.

Alistair sighed and nodded. "Loghain must have gotten delayed by another group of 'Spawn."

"Whoever it is, let's get down there before another Ogre breaks in."

* * *

Cailan stared up at the rampaging Ogre that had smashed through the Southern gate. His companions took up position in front of him as the beast stampeded through the camp soldiers. Turning its gaze to the royal tent, it roared and charged. With a brutal bodyslam, the redheaded warrior was thrown off her feet as Cailan fished his father's Dragonbone sword from a chest. His initial wave of slashing cuts drove the Ogre back a few steps, when his vision of it turned a purple hue. Cailan turned to the young Mage, who kept her gaze on their opponent. Her expression became strained as the Ogre began throwing punches at the shield. "I can keep this up until the others aid us." Raising her arms further into the casting gesture, she tried to keep the silent 'I hope I can' thought from running across her face.

* * *

Seeing the new arrivals forcing the Darkspawn across the bridge so rapidly they were pushing each other over the sides, the defending Magi riddled the crossing with numerous Repulsion Auras to hurl even more to their doom. Luckily, a Mage travelling with the reinforcements waved them to stop, before crossing the sigil lines themselves. While the company of Archers cut down the last of the 'Spawn on the bridge, the exhausted spellcasters began slumping to the ground. Just as tired cheers began to sound, the faint roars of an Ogre carried from a corner of the camp before a bright explosion of whiteness caught everyone's gaze.


	5. Aftermath

Loghain's approach scattered the crowd around the slight crater, their panic visibly growing at sight of the Teryn. Several Magi were in the crater, channelling energies upon the broken ground. Recognising one of the Senior Enchanters present, he waved the bald man over. "What happened here, Uldred?"

"From those footprints, an Ogre got into this area while most were defending the northern entrance. It slaughtered the remaining troops in its path, and then charged the King's barricade. The junior mage assigned to him must have poured all their energy into a protective barrier, to try halting the beast. I'm not sure if physical force should have triggered a backlash blast like this… perhaps an Emissary was involved."

"Emissary?"

"I'm told that's what the Grey Wardens call the Darkspawn spell-masters. All manner of dark and twisted magic."

Loghain frowned and knelt down to inspect the charred earth. "This backlash energy… what of the King? Would it have thrown him somewhere?"

Uldred scratched his brow and looked briefly at the assembled audience. "My lord… we only found a broken horn from the Ogre, and a charred shield."

"That doesn't… ah."

"However, I assigned some scryers; perhaps they'll still detect something."

Leaving the crater, Loghain marched over to the Amaranthine column. Their captain dismounted and slowly approached, holding a sealed parchment. "I was to present this to you and King Cailan, my lord." All but tearing it from the man's hand, Loghain's face darkened upon reading it. "Speak of this situation to no-one, you or your men."

"Understood, my lord."

"You're to join ranks with my company until further notice, under Cauthrein. Dismissed, captain."

The soldier nodded, and slunk away to instruct his lieutenants of their new orders. Hearing their approach, Loghain turned as two young recruits nervously watched him. "Yes?" he sighed as the taller one clumsily saluted. His bearded companion quickly followed suit, before clearing his throat. "Report from the scouts. Sir."

Darkspawn have seemingly withdrawn through several sinkholes. Assigned runners to keep a safe distance, and monitor.

"Very well – find the acting field captains, and tell me to report in." They both nodded, and split up silently to cover the camp quicker. Reading the second scroll again, Loghain's scowl deepened.

"Dare I ask?" Uldred remarked.

"This whole thing - if I didn't know better, I'd call it tactical." Loghain quietly told the mage, finally noticing he had returned.

"Tactical?"

"In the early skirmishes, I'm told the 'Spawn only made an assault after being attacked, and in small numbers. Like a shaken bee's nest, they called it. But this sudden surge without provocation, while our forces were… split up worries me, with the sudden timing when they weren't even grouping during the day."

"Perhaps they amassed enough to finally charge. I'm not aware they possess much reasoning beyond such matters."

"That's the puzzling thing, though. Hear me out. They struck the gate in short waves, and those who got into the camp formed into two groups."

"I only saw them press the bridge."

"The smaller group, yes. Drawing the attention of everyone on this side of the ravine – while an Ogre had broken away, crossed the foot-hills and made straight for Cailan, rather than his Honour Guard. One Ogre, that just wandered off and happened to get up here."

Uldred shook his head, as if trying not to be convinced. "Very… odd, yes. But what of the main group you mentioned?"

"They only cut down any soldiers blocking their path, focusing their attention on the Wardens." Handing over the scout report, Loghain continued. "Now, it seems they suddenly abandoned the battle entirely and returned to the Deep Roads. After destroying vital targets, they up and retreated."

"They destroyed all the Wardens?"

"All in the field, it seems." Lowering to a whisper, he asked "What about our earlier discussion?"

The mage nodded nervously, "I undid the barriers blocking their tunnel into the Tower, yes."

"Still, it seems they didn't attack there beyond a small wave. Maybe the handful of Wardens inside lived."

"The recruits… from what I know of their Joining, perhaps they couldn't sense people so recently inducted."

"Hopefully so – if I'm right about this being a tactical strike, maybe a Blight _is_ upon us. I must get back to Denerim, and quickly. The nobles will be trouble enough, never mind the situation in the north."

"The north?"

"Howe rushed off too soon, and may have started a civil war. I trust your discretion is wiser, yes?"

"With your permission, of course. My friends will not act without my presence."

"Once you return, assemble them and make your move. Wisely, I expect."

With that, Loghain waved him away as several captains approached. "Orders, my lord?"

"Prepare all columns; we'll march to Denerim today. Have we cleared the Tower yet?"

One spoke up. "The Wardens inside did that, it seems."

"So they live… you've seen them? Where are they?"

"They were preparing pyres, my lord. Their leader took over that detail, in case the bodies were tainted."

"Smart thinking… have a runner bring him here. Send another; I'll need to speak to the Grand Cleric, too. Dismissed."

Soon, the two stood before the weary Teryn. Sensing animosity between them, he spoke quickly to get matters over with. "Your Holiness, I wished to inform you that our forces will return to Denerim when ready. We'll be lighting the funeral pyres before, of course. Would you wish to say anything at that time?"

"I shall prepare the proper farewells, and say a blessing."

"I thank you, Your Holiness. Shall you require anything before we embark?"

"We shall be ready, but I shall send word if something arises." She turned and departured curtly, ignoring both men.

* * *

Loghain slowly approached Alistair, before briefly circling him. "… My lord?", the Warden asked.

"Are you nervous, boy? Just weighing things up."

"What things, exactly, would that be?"

"I'm aware of who you are. I'm also aware you knew that, too. Let's get things clear, shall we?"

"As you wish… which things, exactly?" Alistair asked again, while swallowing air to keep his calm.

"Your intentions, with everything the way it is. You seem to be the only Warden remaining in Ferelden, that's served longer than one day."

"Duncan never arrived, my lord."

"True… but his absence is troubling. Perhaps we should not base our plans with him in mind. "

"I'll agree, but still hope for his return. As for plans – what are they?"

"I'm returning to Denerim, to regroup. The stability of the Kingdom may require handling before the Blight."

"Ah… I'll assume it's for _this_ talk. Let's cut to the chase, my duty's with the Grey Wardens, and that's all. I've never had illusions regarding elsewhere. They would have been beaten out of me anyway, growing up."

Loghain fixed a stare at the youth, before sighing. "Others may think differently – those in the know."

"At my count, there's six. Of importance, at least. One, you just saw, who couldn't care less.

Duncan, and since he swore me to another duty, that's out.

Two, who bundled me from the stable to the Chantry, to appease the Arlessa.

One, who either let them, or simply never cared. Not even to meet me.

And yourself, of course."

Loghain simply nodded at his assessments, snorting at the mention of Isolde. "I'm not sure you appreciate the … position your father was in."

"I understand it, sure. But no, I didn't a_ppreciate_ it. My lord. Point is, I'm aware of where I stand."

"Very well… where is that?"

Thinking for a moment, Alistair finally answered. "The treaties!"

"Treaties?"

"Old Grey Warden treaties, compelling aid during a Blight. Duncan told me where to find them. I believe they apply to Orzammar, the Dalish and the Circle."

"And you're willing to handle this?"

"With the recruits, yes."

"We agree, then. Handle this, and report to me in Denerim when it's done."

Both men shook hands, before Alistair left to brief the new Wardens. 'Wow – I actually did all that myself. Maybe I _can_ handle things until we find Duncan.'

Loghain watched him leave, finally collapsing into a chair. 'Hmm – perhaps it's better that he lived. If there's to be war, those treaties of his can force the balance.'


	6. Jowan

**A/N - apology for the sudden drop-off, if anyone's still reading. Short version: worst fortnight ever, family-wise. On with the show.**

* * *

Jowan nervously watched the Dwarven merchant, tending to his cart-horses. Turning to check if anyone else were nearby, he froze upon noticing another Dwarf staring straight at his position amongst the scrub.

Smiling, the younger Dwarf walked over and offered a glowing stone. "An ice rune?"

"Enchantment!"

Rolling the rune around in his hand, inspecting the craftwork, Jowan took a moment to realise both Dwarves were in front of him now.

"I see Sandal's showing off his handiwork again. Where he finds the material, I'll never know."

"He made this? It's better than what I saw the Tranquil make." Jowan inwardly cursed, realising what he had just blurted. 'Hopefully, it's true that Dwarves have no interest in Mages.'

"You're welcome to join our camp tonight, if you'd like to talk with my boy about his work."

Jowan nodded in agreement, and offered his thanks. "Joseph Wenne."

"Bodahn Feddic, meserre. My boy, Sandal, of course."

Scooping up the loose roll of fabric he had found two days earlier, Jowan followed them to their fire. Noticing the Human trying to drape tattered material over a low-hanging tree branch, Bodahn dug out an old tent and bedroll from his wagon. "I have this, if you'd prefer. Shall we say, ten silver?"

Eying the tent, Jowan slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid that's beyond my limited finances." Tipping out his bag, he continued "Perhaps we can trade, if any of this interests you."

Bodahn knelt down and examined the pile. "Knife, dried fruit, _An Annotated Index of Fereldan Nobility_, _A Blessed Age modern guide to Runes_, _The History of the Chantry_."

"Those last two books are well-kept, for their age." Jowan commented, clearly hoping to increase their worth.

Bodahn silently opened one, to check the publication note. "Compiled in the year 9.04 of the Dragon Age, to help catalogue post-Liberation changes to the Bannorn and beyond… what are these smaller markings?"

"Probably to show they were indexed when added to the Circle Library."

Frowning, Bodahn skimmed through another. "That's a hindrance to their resale potential… I'll take the knife, and this rune book for Sandal to look at."

Jowan quickly thanked him, while scooping up the remaining books. Realising he'd just crushed the fruit by kneeling on it, he groaned. "Better find something to pick."

Bodahn looked up from polishing the knife. "Don't worry, Serrah Wenne. The others should return from their hunt soon."

"Others?"

* * *

"So… Bodahn said you were a merchant from the north?"

Stirring the stew pot, the other man looked at Jowan with an unreadable expression. "Kirkwall. I was called here on business. My associate and I are travelling south, there's someone we need to meet with, on a matter of importance."

Jowan looked over at the third Dwarf, adjusting the wire on his crossbow. "He's your bodyguard, I assume?"

"At the moment, perhaps so."

"Bodyguard, associate, publicist, chaperone. Amongst other duties – she didn't really define the contract." the beardless Dwarf added, taking a sit next to the fire.

"So you were hired by someone else, then?" Jowan asked.

Dropping his pained eyes back to the pot, the young man quietly began scooping the stew onto plates. "My sister", he eventually added, walking off to summon Bodahn and his son.

Confused, Jowan grabbed a plate and passed it over. "I… so, something happened to his sister?"

"His entire family, unfortunately."

"Is that why he's travelling, armoured? Seems odd, for a merchant."

"A lot of things are odd, these days."

Jowan nodded bitterly, "No matter how much we fight against it, it seems."

"As for where and why he's travelling – asking that might make him ask why you're travelling solo, wearing an inside-out Circle robe. How about we both avoid that question?"

Looking down at his robe, he groaned. "I guess the mud didn't stain it enough. Nobody in the last village had any laundry hanging out. At least not where I could reach it without being seen."

"Believe or not, you're actually doing better than most runners I saw in Kirkwall. They don't even bother trying to hide their robes" the Dwarf chuckled.

"I heard Kirkwall was better, that they're actually allowed outside at times."

"Green is always greener, no doubt. They're searched weekly, and they wouldn't have allowed drop-offs."

Jowan looked up from his empty plate, confused. "Drop-offs?"

Having joined the group, Bodahn nodded. "On our way south from Orzammar, we were asked to take a traveller to Lake Calenhad. I guess she talked her way into the Tower, because we waited to see if she'd get sent back."

"Was she a young Dwarf? Over-excited about magic?" Jowan asked, looking shocked.

"That's the one."

"I met her a few times, mostly while she ran around the library… rumour was, she was monitoring our reading for the Templars. It was too weird, having a Dwarf suddenly."

"Probably a good thing there wasn't two" Bodahn replied. "I was thinking about taking Sandal over, to see what they thought about his rune-skills. But we met these two, who paid well enough to move on. Thanks again for the tip, meserre. Staging camps are nice places for profit, if you're out before the battle."

"You're heading for _Ostagar_?"

The other Human nodded. "I must meet with the King."

"So you came to Ferelden, during a Blight? Wouldn't anyone in the Marches help your family?"

"Varric…"

"Relax – no names, no details. He was putting it together anyway."

"Alright… I suppose he's hardly likely to be signalling Bards where we are."

Jowan laughed at the idea. "I'm pretty sure I'd be embargoed on some worst-dressed list."

"No, your hair's a bigger disqualifier, from what I hear of Val Royeaux."

Suddenly yawning, Jowan stood. "Pardon me, but I think I'll take advantage of finally having a proper bedroll."

* * *

The next day, their group had reached the main road system again. "With decent pace, we'll reach Ostagar tomorrow morning." Bodahn commented, before pointing towards their Mage associate. "Provided he decides if he's coming or going."

Varric nodded, walking over to the sign-posts. "Made a decision? I think they're going to leave regardless, in a minute."

"It's probably better I move on. I'll find somewhere quieter than the King's camp, I think. Thank them for me, though. Don't worry; I won't mention your friend. Not that he even gave a name."

"He's settled on 'Jackson Doulaine', for some reason."

"Not even close?"

"Nope... I guess that's the point, though. As long as he feels safer, I'll go with it."

"How about you, 'Varric'?"

The Dwarf just chuckled, "Hey, it's not me they'd be looking for. Why bother?"

Suddenly, a light wave of pebbles fell over their heads. Looking up to the hill where the wagon stood, they saw their topic of conversation pointing to the bushes, as he crouched behind the wagon. As he gave another frantic gesture before leaping into Bodahn's cargo pile, a group of Templars came over the rise. Watching them approach, drawing their swords, Jowan froze in panic. 'Even without the phylactery… and you just thought Anders was stupid. Now who's the idiot?' He looked over his shoulder, realising Varric had been quicker to realise what the hand-waving had meant and reached cover. Sighing, he allowed himself to be shackled. Not sheathing their weapons, they turned their attention to the others.

"So you lot are just merchants, then? If you know nothing about that Apostate, why are you parked here?"

Upon this enquiry, Varric emerged from the scrub behind the Templar, visibly adjusting his belt. "I feel much lighter now, we can… oh. Apologies for my crude humour, Ser."

Frowning, the Templar lowered his blade as his comrade finished inspecting their cargo and gave an all-clear. "Right… where are you headed, _on business_?"

"We heard about Ostagar, and a staging camp is usually a nice coin-turner."

He sheathed his sword. "True enough, I guess. Just a warning though, my wife's stationed there… she'd thump your skulls if you were too _entrepreneurial _with your pricing." With a laugh at their faces, he walked back to the other Templars. "They're probably shady in regards to where their stock came from, but that's hardly our concern. Let's get to Denerim and be done with it." They looked up in surprise as the wagon started away, before suddenly stopping again. A column of Circle Magi and Templars filed past both groups in silence. Waving down the procession leaders, they approached.

"We didn't expect to see anyone else on the road. What news from the south?"

"The King has fallen, to an attack the Darkspawn suddenly unleashed before all the promised forces had arrived. Teryn Loghain's issued a fall-back to Denerim, to remind the absent lords of their obligations before regrouping any armed response. The Grand Cleric demanded the Mages be returned while this business is sorted out. There's even talk of civil war in the north, according to rumour."

The Templar who had questioned Bodahn stepped forward, stunned. "What about casualties?"

"Mostly among the soldiers. A sizable amount, but the attacks seemed focused on destroying the Grey Warden numbers. They succeeded, too."

* * *

Engrossed in their conversation, none of them noticed a bald-headed Mage stop upon seeing Jowan. After hearing the smaller Templar group mention taking their captive to Denerim, he quickly summoned a Wisp. Focusing thoughts into it, he discreetly released it to the ground before it flew to the south. His task done, he looked back to Jowan and offered a nod and silent smirk before riding forward again.

'Uldred… I'm not sure what he just did, but he's up to something. He probably thinks they'll make me crack and mention just who taught me Blood Magic to begin with. Let's hope its rescue, not destruction…' Jowan was snapped out of his thoughts as one of his captors turned his attention from the group.

"Wesley?"

"Sorry, Irminic. I need to know."

Offering a handshake, his companion nodded. "Of course. Maker watch over her."

"Maker watch over us all."

Returning the salute offered by the others, Wesley caught up with the wagon just as the procession passed and the road was clear again. "Wait!"

"More questions, Serrah?"

Catching his breath, he climbed into the tray amongst the cluttered inventory. "Get me to Lothering before sunset. I'll make the fare worth it." Bodahn simply nodded and got underway once more. Moving several weapons so he could sit down, one caught his eye. Slowly lifting the enormous blade, he stared at it in shock. "What on Thedas is _this_?"

The young man sitting opposite reached out and took it. "I bought that from a traveller a week ago. Apparently, it's an actual Qunari blade, though I have no idea where he obtained it."

"You wanted this? To re-sell, I assume?"

"Eventually, maybe. At the time, I was worried about bandits… and such. I figured it would make for a good deterrent, just by appearance. I prefer bows, but looking more intimidating can only help someone like me, Chantry-whipped against combat."

The Dwarf they rode with just laughed, "I let Bianca do the intimidation for me" he remarked as he proudly showed off his crossbow.

'Maker's Breath… what would Aveline think of these lunatics?' Wesley thought, turning his eye to the road behind them.


	7. Amongst the Wilds

'I can only imagine Wesley's reaction to this lunacy…' Aveline sighed, as she paced the bank. 'This spot smells the least stagnant', she dropped onto the ground and looked around. "What do you make of all this?" she asked the Elven woman who stood nearby, still absently picking at stains on her Circle robes.

"I'm trying not to, honestly. Even if our host is lying about her name, she's clearly powerful. Beyond anyone in the Circle, I'd guess."

"Well, that's comforting. What about the younger one?"

"Nowhere as good as she tries to seem – unless 'Snide' is another branch of magic. Where is she, anyway?"

"She disappeared earlier – muttering about how the swamp is far too crowded lately." Glancing over at the hunt, Aveline rose to her feet. "As for whatever's happening in there, I'm going to kick that door down soon if we don't hear anything."

Grabbing her staff, Surana nodded. "But, let's try knocking first… she does react better to manners."

"As a novelty, no doubt. But very well."

As they reached the foot of the stairs, the door suddenly swung open.

* * *

"For the last time, you idiots, you've been conscripted. Gather up your fellows, and fall in."

The guards looked up at the furious Teryn, before one was pushed forward from the pack. "But the town's defences, my lord…"

"Will still be in the path of the Darkspawn, if they mobilise again. Ceorlic would no doubt agree, if he weren't currently cowering in Denerim with the rest." Dismounting, he stepped over and grabbed a trooper by the throat. "Post an evacuation on the Chantry board if you insist, just get it together. I'm giving you 20 minutes to join the camp… don't make me come looking for you." Shoving the man backwards, he led his horse out of the township as various villagers watched in silence. Briefly taking notice of the muttered prayers coming from the caged Qunari, he left Lothering. 'I've always hated this town… even before the local collaborators raided our camp to hunt down Maric.'

As he rode towards the remnants of his Host, those Cauthrein hadn't led on to Denerim, a green puff of smoke came across the plain and began floating around his head. Sighing in annoyance, Loghain stopped and unrolled a blank parchment. The Wisp slowly fizzled and shrunk, as it dripped itself into a message.

_My Teryn – concerning the Mage Collective rumours I shared about Eamon's son, it may interest you to know a small group of Templars are on the road to Denerim. Escorting a rather gullible Circle runaway, who'd be easily recruited for your purposes. Shall send further word once the Tower is in our control. _

_Uldred._

Tossing the scroll into a fire-pit the servants had set up for smoking meat, he told a Major to bring him some of the convicts who had joined to avoid sentencing. "As thuggish as possible, please." Looking them over, he smirked. "Gentlemen, how would you feel about a special assignment in exchange for being discharged from service?"

One spat on the ground, offering a smirk of his own. "Mother always did say I was special."

A dim looking bald one looked over at their apparent leader. "Mine told me to hit the road."

"Just grab some decent weapons, and follow me" Loghain groaned. "There's a certain group I need to relieve of their prisoner. That is, if you're willing to ambush Templars?"

* * *

"Now there is a sensible request. I like you." Before she could say anything else to the Elven Warden, the dim-witted one stepped forward.

"I'd be careful. First, it's 'I like you'… then zap! Frog time!"

Morrigan rolled her eyes, waiting for any more stupid remarks. 'At least those two at the back can hold their tongues… thankfully, the other two imbeciles from yesterday aren't present.' "Follow me, then, if it pleases you."

As they set off, she allowed a slight grin when the Mage of their group asked "What is it with you and frogs, anyway? He even thought I was going to turn him into a toad, when we met."

"I only asked what the chances were… Am I really the only one worried about it?"

"I've never heard of any type of magic that could do that, so yes. It's just you."

The Elf, his annoyance clearly growing, replied "From what I understand, such casting is rare indeed… and it's self-inflicting only."

A fourth voice added itself, finally. "I have no idea what a frog even is – some violent Surface beast?"

'The Dwarf speaks… not one of their tongue-cutting fanatics, then.'

"Imagine the least dangerous animal you can – frogs are even weaker. And the size of your hand."

The Dwarf laughed. "I'm just picturing a miniature Nug. You'll have to point one out, next time... or I'll just wait for one to chase our leader up a tree."

Sighing at the group's laughs, Alistair offered "Can't we get back to focusing on the Blight? Or keeping our guard up, in case of anymore surprises?"

"They hurt your inadequate brain, do they?" Morrigan sneered, "Tis hardly surprising – try not to make a scene at what awaits you."

* * *

Flemeth shook her head at the two women before her. "Doubtless you both have more questions, but they can wait for the others. I do hate repeating myself… and complications have already left so much unreadable."

As if on cue, the younger Witch came over a hill with four others trailing behind her. "Here you are, mother. As expected, the Grey Moron and his recruits."

"I can see that, girl. Send out our royal guest, so I can get them on their way."

* * *

Allowing their shocked ramblings upon seeing Cailan alive, Flemeth watched carefully. 'So - three out of the seven, here… when only one should have survived thus far. Not to mention the two who will end up Kirkwall-bound. And both of _his_ sons, at my disposal… these damned winds have almost blown too much my way. On with the spiel, lest something else change while they jabber like crows. There's still a champion to recruit, after all.' "I have a few questions of my own, if you are quite finished. These are my wilds, after all."

Cailan nodded, almost eagerly "Of course – and I thank you again for your help."

"So keen you are, just like your father when he was here." Turning to Alistair with a smirk, she continued "While you, you have the same tiresome scowl as the other one."

"What other one?"

"Your supposed General, who was preparing to abandon the battle while I dealt with that Ogre of yours. I did warn your father about such possibilities… clearly he didn't listen."

"So you _are_ the same woman my father mentioned once… fantastic!"

Theron swallowed his groan at such a display, half-expecting Cailan to get hurled into the pond to make him be silent.

Brosca got the Elf's attention, whispering "I don't want to break up this reunion thing of theirs… but even I'm getting a weird feeling from that woman, and I've not the slightest idea who she is."

The warrior they'd met on arrival leaned into the conversation "I know who she is – The Witch of the Wilds."

They all looked up when Flemeth replied to their huddled discussion "Some call me that. Also Flemeth," she turned to Theron, nodding at the unsurprised Elf "Asha'bellanar, 'an old hag who talks too much'. Does it matter? You have enough to worry about already, trust me."

Cailan stepped forward again. "There's still something I don't understand – the attack. We had avoided any approach upon the 'Spawn while waiting for several forces to arrive, so how did it get triggered? They aren't smart enough to have known our plans, right?"

"That would have been true, once. This Blight, however… the threat is greater than you know. Something in how this one was triggered has changed a great deal indeed; most of all, this Archdemon is aware of the Grey Wardens. It has been since it awoke – and it feels very much threatened. These four only escaped the slaughter because they are so new to the order. Should they become able to sense you, though, they will march against any odds to destroy you. Fortunately, a reprieve has occurred. Its attention has shifted, to your erstwhile General and the threat he may pose, if he were wise enough to summon Wardens from elsewhere, and if they were foolish enough to come. Once it builds enough forces, it will no longer care about such concerns. It will simply destroy this land, and then it will choke the lands with carrion and filth as it drives its hordes headlong toward Weisshaupt." Enjoying the greyed, silent faces on her guests, she continued "So, I must ask, are you ready to be Grey Wardens?"

Brosca was the first to move. "Stuck without outside aide, thanks to jabbering leaders and their old border maps, and Darkspawn aplenty at our throats… Lady, in Orzammar we call that 'Tuesday'. Besides, we'll never return to the Stone if we don't die. I'm as ready as I will be."

Theron nodded "I would _so_ hate to disappoint that Shem who wanted me for a meat shield, on my death-bed… I guess I'm in. Maybe I'll last long enough to buy an escape for my Clan."

As the others slowly muttered agreements, Flemeth pulled Cailan aside and whispered "Should you live, I expect you to remember exactly what we discussed. Understand?"

He silently nodded, as Morrigan walked out of the hut. "The stew is bubbling, Mother. Shall we require more pots, or none?"

"Our guests are leaving shortly, girl. And you shall be accompanying them."

"Oh, such a sha… What?"

* * *

**A/N:** **Finally done setting up the opening pieces - now they can get moving. Thoughts welcome.**


	8. Welcome to Lothering

**A/N - Finally getting somewhere, and the first of the non-Warden Origins comes creeping in. (Weighing the idea of doing their backstories as side-stories, they're kinda eating up planning. Maybe I'll weave in flashbacks, or something)**

* * *

'I have no idea what's worse – the weather or their bickering' Theron sighed, looking at the Mabari which had taken to his side.

"How odd - we now have a dog, and Alistair is still the dumbest one in the party." Not getting a response, Morrigan continued "Although… at least he can be excused for eating dropped food."

Alistair looked at her briefly, before falling back to the back of the group where Anders walked. "I knew that squirrel was judging me… and guess who it was?"

"Hmm. Not as impressive as that spider trick she pulled on the Alpha before, but it would make sneaking about easier… could have used it back in the Tower. Not to mention getting _out _of there."

"You know him, right? Should his glibness concern us?"

Surana shook her head at the soldier's question. "He's just spouting off, like he does. If it helps, he took Healing as his Major."

Aveline shrugged, "That's something, I suppose. Provided he's not going to do something stupid, it'll have to do. It won't matter, when we hit Lothering – I'll have to report in, to somebody." Stopping suddenly, Aveline waved the Mages to the back of the group. "There are armed men up ahead, and they don't look like soldiers." She then turned to Cailan, "You should probably stay back as well, your Highness."

Theron tossed a cloak over to him, before sizing up the group further up the road. "Just a small group, only the middle one looks like a fighter. The rest are probably throat-cutters… wait, one archer on the end. I'll draw a bead on them if someone wants to sound out what they are up to. Anders, get ready as well."

Brosca looked at Alistair, then shrugged and muttered "I guess we've decided who's in charge, now" before walking out to the blockade.

"Hold on, brother. Someone's coming." Looking up, the apparent leader stepped forward to meet Brosca. "Greetings, Warden."

"Yeah, hello. Look, we've been walking all day so either skip to trying to rob us or let us pass. They could do with a fight, back there." The swordsman quickly moved into position for a quick attack, while his leader looked at the Dwarf in shock.

"You think we're bandits? No, we dealt with them earlier. We're just seeing if any of this is useful, and if these wagons can be rebuilt to help get people out of town – with Ostagar gone, the Horde will probably fall here next."Nodding grimly, Brosca turned and waved an all-clear. "If you need water, there's a good well on our farm. With all the Templars in town, some of your group may want to lay low as well. Carver, go tell Mother we've got more guests?"

Before he could answer, both young men stopped and watched Cailan shuffle past, the cloak draped over his face. "Right… I better give her a head's up about this, or she'll tan both of us."

Once the road had cleared, Aveline asked the remaining two where the local guard-house could be found. "Centre of town, across the bridge. I doubt you'll find anyone, though. Teryn Loghain passed through a few days ago, and took almost all of the Bann's men with him."

"So they left the town undefended?"

"We've still got the Templars, but yes. That's why my brother and I took an impromptu leave of absence and stayed to get our family out. Our guest here convinced us to join the evacuation effort, though" gesturing to the auburn male still pulling down parts of the blockade, "so here we are. According to the louder lieutenants, we've got another two days. At the Horde's current rate of advance, they say."

Aveline nodded, supressing her reaction. "I should still try to report in, or see what notes they left."

Hurling away a broken crate, the worker looked over. "Hawke, I'll show her where it is."

"Alright, I better check on Mother since I dropped more visitors on her. Meet you back at the house?"

* * *

"Of course – I'm sure he'll come drag me back to work if I'm gone too long."

"You almost sound like part of a press-gang, you know?"

"Nothing like that, rest assured. My bodyguard's just none too subtle about keeping me busy. Apparently I'll shut down if I stop to think…" Before Aveline could say anything, a Templar stepped into their path.

"If you're looking for shelter, there's none to be found."

"I'm here to report to the guard, if anyone's still serving."

"They were all called north, unfortunately. Perhaps they had courtesy enough to leave instructions with Ser Bryant. You'll find him in the Chantry."

"You're following me to the Chantry?"

"I should have gone earlier – I need to ask them something." Mid-sentence, her companion returned a wave from two Elves while their apparent daughter sat next to a lamb.

"Friends of yours, I assume?"

"We helped them earlier, while running odd-jobs and clearing off the Chantry board for the last two days. Like I said, they're trying to keep me moving."

Aveline stopped and took stock of his face. "Good thing too, I've seen eyes like those before, on crushed soldiers. What happened?"

"I should ask about you – I heard about Ostagar, it sounded like sheer luck the battle was turned."

"I ended up not seeing most of the battle. You … wouldn't believe me if I told you my story. "

"Wouldn't I? Does it involve dragons?"

"Everything else, it seemed."

Offering a faked smile, he shook his head. "Oh? Sounds like a good one, indeed."

"Maybe with a better story-teller… and the names changed. I already hear enough jokes about legends, with mine."

"Don't worry about any jesting, your sword looks like a sharper wit than my little rabbit-shooter bow."

Sighing, she shook his offered hand. "Aveline Vallen."

"Aedan… wait, Aveline?"

"That lasted long, didn't it?"

"I'm sorry; I met someone on the road who was looking for you earlier." His eyes spun around the town centre, finally settling on a noisy crowd. Running over, he looked around the faces while Aveline caught up.

"For the last time, if you're not buying then move on. Prices are non-negotiable."

"A profiteer… it figures." Walking into the crowd, they found the merchant arguing with two Chantry members. "Oh Maker, not her again…"

"Is that another of your good stories?" Aedan asked.

"Apparently they don't give their Initiates enough to do – my company were billeted here while waiting the rest of the army, and the redheaded one took great delight in playing trickster, with the troops as a captive audience."

Finally smiling, he waved Aveline to continue. "This I have to hear. Sounds like great pranks were had… she got _you_, didn't she?"

"Don't make me have to deck you…" she muttered, looking over to see Aedan waving to someone behind her.

"Look who I found!" he called out as she heard the heavy clank of someone running in heavy armour.

"What now?" she asked before being grabbed on the shoulder. While being spun around, she had already thrown a hand in retaliation and caught the man across the side of his head, sending him roughly to the ground. "Wesley?"

He looked up, stunned. "I'm happy to see you too." He croaked, trying to cough up dirt. After they helped him to his feet, leaning him against a fence while he caught his breath, Aedan handed a water-pouch to the Templar.

"Here, I see you'll need this." Turning to Aveline, he added "I see your warning was correct."

"I can still carry it out, you know."

"It'd be a welcome change if you'd hit someone else, dear." Wesley interjected, smiling. "And you managed to take a break, or did you sneak away?"

Aedan nodded. "Both, in a way. Starting to ache now, but it's still kind of fun to finally do work like that. My brother ran around the local smithies when he was younger, and had the occasional pitch-in, but I was shockingly sick as a child a few times so it wasn't allowed for me."

Wesley nodded "I still have trouble in winter, myself. I'll have to get a thicker tent, like yours, if I keep having to track apostates in the kind of weather we've had."

"I keep telling you that, Wesley. You get sick far too easy."

He faked an indignant look and joked "She's just saying that because I once caught a cough from rain an hour before it hit. Luckily, I've never run into anything serious – I'd probably keel over in minutes."

"You and me both, probably. Excuse me, I'll keep doing my rounds and leave you two for a non-punching talk."

* * *

Having heard the commotion, Bethany had joined the crowd now surrounding the merchant. She carefully stepped away as a Templar she didn't recognise shoved through the crowd to reach the man, followed by a fierce-eyed woman as both joined the Sisters in berating the merchant. Deciding to try her shopping list at Dane's Refuge, she turned just in time to see Aedan come marching out of the Chantry with a furious scowl. Storming across the courtyard, he stopped and a darker look crossed his face upon seeing the ongoing argument. Carefully guarding his expression, he returned to the mob while proudly carrying a coin-sack "Excuse me, everyone, I need to talk business with the good merchant." As they leaned into his supply-cart for a better look, Aedan grabbed the man by the throat. "Listen to me, scum. There's 30 gold in here – you'll take it, leave the cart and everything in it, then you and your thugs will get out. Or I could just watch those desperate people you're fleecing decide to simply run a pitchfork through you and take everything." The merchant snatched the bag, storming off to waiting horses with his bodyguards in tow. As they rode past, he glared and spat into the crowd before turning towards the Imperial Highway. "Well, now that our happy friend has departed, I'm running this shop now" Aedan said to the gathered town-people, before pointing to Bethany amongst the crowd. "Unfortunately, I've no business acumen at all. You, Miss Hawke, what do you need?"

"Mother sent me to get some wine."

He found a wine bottle in the cart, and turned to the Chantry sisters, "I'll have to ask you to run things for me." After handing the bottle to Bethany, he then turned back to the crowd, "Please keep an orderly queue, and enjoy the new management Give-Away, everybody!"

Waving away their thanks, he disappeared into the Chantry garden while Aveline and Wesley took up position next to the sisters. "Orderly is the key word, people." Wesley announced as his wife made a show of drawing her sword and resting it next to her.

Before rounding the corner, Aedan looked back at the gathering. 'Bodahn's lurking at the back, of course… at least the weapons won't be left lying around if the villagers don't need them.' Sighing, he collapsed onto a bench.

* * *

A short while later, he felt something snap him out of his slumber. Confused, his eyes darted around the small garden before noticing the two women standing to one side of the bench. "Bethany?"

"Sorry, we weren't sure if you were sleeping or praying."

"Just a quick rest… I'm not allowed any prayer. According to that miserable, useless hag calling herself Revered Mother, at least." Sensing both of them shift uneasily, he finally looked at the other woman. "Oh… my apologies, Sister. I'm just trying to handle what she said to me, and clearly doing a bad job."

"We're all feeling pressure lately, I'm afraid. More so for her, keeping people's faith in such times must be a strain." replied the red-haired Sister.

Bethany sat down on the bench, putting a hand on Aedan's shoulder. "If it's that difficult a request, perhaps Sister Leliana can help mediate."

She shook her head "I'm afraid I'm not actually a Sister anymore, but I could ask her. What did you need?"

"I asked if we could offer a remembrance prayer, together." He slunk back on the bench, almost hiding his face behind his knees. "My family… our house was attacked, at midnight. Dairren, they forced him into a corner before they, they just… like he was nothing more than a pig in a butcher's backroom. My parents… I saw them both bleeding out, on the ground." He collapsed against Bethany, tears gushing. "They must have killed everyone! Murdered… My little nephew…. Orianna. I never even thanked her, she… even when nobody else did, she never stopped… She didn't give up on me! I ran! I might have made it back… I should have tried! I just ran!" Releasing the startled woman, he slid down onto the grass. "Why? Give me a knife at that bastard's throat – I'd let him live if he just told me why… no. No. I'll hang him from the tallest tree in the Brecilian. I'll make him answer me… answer for everyone. Nan! What the Hell did she do to deserve… Once he answered, I'd hang him upside-down, so he can count his insides as he feels what Dairren felt. He'll watch them fall down, past his eyes." Not even aware of his audience now, he continued.

"I'll go south – find Flemeth. Remind her about how Sarim let her go, and find some way to make a pact with her. Make her see that she should have crushed Elstan's worthless damned cousins as well. She didn't finish the damn job back then; I'll make her burn that whole family tree, and scatter their ashes on the coastal winds. We'll kill Thomas last, after he's watched everything _he_ ever knew destroyed before him. I'll show _him_ to dance, the worthless bastard. Let Amaranthine burn while he learns a jig… take his bones; bury them around Rabbit so his spirit can chew on them forever. Rabbit, boy, make him pay. Fergus… you'll never forgive me. Why should you? I'll find your body too, brother. Maybe I can do that right…"

He never found out which of the women slapped him, but the sudden sting forced him back to reality. "What happened just now?" he asked, still dazed.

"We were talking about the Revered Mother, and then you snapped. You were screaming about slaughtering people in the forest, and your family."

"Oh." He lifted himself up, visibly ashamed. "I'm sorry…. I guess they were right, about needing to keep me distracted. Whatever I said, please forgive me. I doubt it was appropriate, especially in front of women. After your family were kind enough to provide me food and shelter. Sister… I think I said something about the Revered Mother first. I…"

"You were clearly holding that in for too long, such loads will destroy you if you ignore their weight. What happened with the Mother, before?"

He choked his gasps, and shook his head. "I asked if she and I could pray for everyone. She wouldn't. Teryn Loghain – he passed through town, and met with her. I know Howe's soldiers sent a brigade or two to Ostagar… Maker only knows what they told him, but he's issued some edict that we're traitors. She blessed him for the struggles ahead, when he puts down the rebellion in the north… our people will fight back, I know it. They'll be crushed, but they'll fight… I came south to find Fergus, and the King. We never found him on the road, and he never reached the battle. They must have killed him when he rode out that night. Cailan's dead too… and Loghain will force Anora to side with his edict… it's all gone. She refused to even consider it. I begged her just to say something for Oren… how could someone his age be a traitor? He was still learning about honesty… she said she might light a candle tonight, if there's time and matches to spare… I begged for Oriana too – she said I was clearly sincere, but she wouldn't cross an edict she was told in person. She had a Templar escort me out, since I refused to leave. Clearly, returning that damned donation she insisted I give when I entered never crossed her mind… oh no! Our money is fine, but our souls can go wanting… Elthina would have never forced out the desperate. She'd know her duty, she would pray for people regardless of what some idiot who wasn't there tells her after the fact. Siding with Howe… the whole family were collaborators for the damned Orlesians in the war. And my father? He fought that fight longer than anyone who wasn't a Guerrin… what the Hell is Loghain thinking? Elthina would have thrown _him_ out for suggesting such a thing…. I'm ranting again, aren't I? Sorry."

"Grand Cleric Elthina?" asked the Sister.

"What? Right… yes, I spent a few years in Kirkwall, and I was introduced to one of the Brothers via the usual circles of nobility. Sebastian helped arrange for me to study in their Chantry, I guess he saw something similar to himself before joining, and I got to know the Grand Cleric. They both helped me understand a lot of things better, before my father called me home."

Bethany let him get his breathe back, as he leaned against the Chantry wall. "You mentioned nobility, and some of what you said before, like meeting with King Cailan… maybe I missed something you told my brothers, but you're a noble?"

"I'm a Cousland, from Highever. The last one, I guess. Half the time, I'll try to hide it in case someone's hunting for me. The other half, I'm surprised Varric hasn't let it slip. Still, I can't really worry about anyone in this town. Knowing Howe, he'd want the job done properly. That means a Crow."

Bethany watched both of them nod, confused. "Wouldn't falconry be more practical for attacks?"

He almost laughed, before returning to a serious stare. "The Crows are notorious assassins from Antiva… failing that, he'd hire an Orlesian bard. They're more likely to be in the country" He shrugged, "so I guess I just have to stay away from anyone with an accent." He dropped back onto the bench, scratching his chin. "Sorry, Sister. You're great, to have listened to me this long and stay. Let's just say that proclamation skips you, and only applies to bards instead. Those hypothetical stabbity hunters of mine."

"Leliana is good with a lute, though, and she has great stories. Does that count?" Bethany grinned, aware of the distinction between ministrels and bards from a story she'd once heard.

Aedan shrugged, "I don't think so. She's a singing bard, not a stabbing bard, as the old song goes."

"You talked Garrett out of trying to head south, for Gwaren. Mother still wants to go to Kirkwall until things are safe, you could come with us, to Denerim."

"Maybe... I'd probably have to disguise myself to get past the gates. I do know a captain who'd take us, no questions asked. It's still safer than his idea about going south... running through the Darkspawn to escape them? That's just a fast way to die, and the North is out of the question, with everything..."

Seeing his eyes going dark again, Bethany cut in "Leliana, show him your rose."

"You want her to show me..."

She pointed to a withering bush, "The rose. She had a vision about it, you'll see." Before Leliana could respond, shouts and alarm calls began sounding from the town gates.

"DARKSPAWN!"


	9. Shade

Carver leant against a wall, watching their odd assortment of guests as they took their turns with the well-bucket before collapsing into shade beneath the trees.

"Charming stead, this is" offered the hooded traveller as he walked over, gazing around.

'If you say so….' Carver thought, but replied "Must be a change from Denerim, I suppose."

Cailan nodded absently, "Absolutely. I doubt you have company like them very often" he joked, watching the Wardens trying to keep their rations out of a Mabari's reach.

"Hardly – it's the week for it, though. We've already got three travellers staying in the barn." Carver pointed to a building past the orchard. "The town's filled up with refugees, and they helped us deal with some bandits who were skulking around, so we let them stay. You would have seen one of them, helping us strip those wagons. His Dwarf friend will be around somewhere, and there's also an Elven girl who was getting bailed up by those bandits when we came across them. Probably an Alienage runaway – she mostly sticks to her own company, but she's started talking to our sister."

Cailan suddenly laughed, as a second Mabari had joined the other's vigilant stare at the people eating. The older Hawke brother whistled it away as he strode across the path. Seeing Carver's position, he asked "Junior's showing the soldier woman to the guard-house. I take it Mother bolted the door?"

"She sent Bethany into town for some wine, and started doing a clean-up once I mentioned our guest here."

Cailan eyed both of them, realising he wasn't as unnoticed as he had hoped. "What's to mention about me?"

Carver simply snorted, "Come off it – even if armour like yours didn't scream 'important', we were both at Ostagar. Garrett's squad had to do an inspection line-up for you as well."

"My brother's right, Your Majesty", clearly emphasising the title against Carver's over-familiarity before continuing. "The cloak is another give-away, wearing it that way even though today isn't as windy as it has been. Our father taught us a lot of stealth-craft, so we can spot these things."

Cailan shrugged and threw back the hood. "My apologies, for what it's worth. It's been years since I got to walk about without being 'Cailan'."

"That'll probably get complicated soon; word's already spreading about your death. Once the army reaches Denerim, no doubt it'll be official."

"Anora will keep things going until I get there… I'm counting on it. Once Loghain regroups the army with Redcliff's forces, and accepts we need outside aid, he and the Wardens will rout the Darkspawn. They scarcely need me for that."

"Perhaps… the casualties weren't as bad as they might have been, from a lengthy battle."

"That's good to hear… did they have a count?"

"Not when we skipped out. Half the missing might also just have disappeared, like we did. All of the Wardens all on the field… they say the Horde sought them out first."

Carver nodded, "I saw that, from where my squad fought. I overheard two Captains discussing the noble losses – Bann Guthrie, Bann Woderson, and Arl Uriel, or so they said."

"Uriel? That's a shame… he always had a good word of advice." Cailan's face suddenly dropped. "And that makes Vaughn next in line…" 'That will be a disaster. Even I've heard about his interests… good luck, Anora.' They heard a faint crack of energy, and looked over to see Morrigan stuffing some items into her pouch.

"Was she there before?"

"I heard her mention going for supplies, but she covered that distance quicker than I thought."

* * *

Feeling satisfied with her task, Morrigan handed portions of dried food to Theron and the Mages. Alistair interrupted their thanks "What about the rest of us? You could have gotten a list before shopping."

She snorted at him. "You can surely manage to reach the town yourself, or is that hoping for too much? Two freshly unchained Circle Mages in a town full of Templars is obvious trouble, even if one be a Warden now. Theron, also – provided they even deign to serve one of the Dalish, they would try to charge him beyond his coin. Which would result in dead or wounded merchants, and your recruit leader in a lockhouse."

Theron gave a small grunt of agreement, before adding "That's assuming some Shem mob didn't simply run me through."

"This leaves our Dwarven friend, who I already know to be resourceful. As shown by the fact he noticed that you're both resting under fruit trees. Something you ignored, even with your height advantage over him." They both looked at Brosca, as he held an apple out to one of the Mabari. Laughing as it made an exaggerated display of gagging in disgust upon sniffing, he threw the inedible fruit over his shoulder and lifted another from his pile for inspection. Getting a happy bark in response, he sliced it into portions and tossed one to the waiting animal.

"Well, perhaps I didn't feel like simply helping myself to our hosts' property?"

"You had no such qualms about their well-water, so I shall assume you expected they would invite all of us inside for a meal. Much more of a strain upon them, don't you think? Especially for so small a dwelling, and they already have people staying on."

"Yes – you've made your point."

"Oh good, I worried I might have to write you a summary for later reading" Morrigan gloated in his defeat. "Take some comfort, though. I saw one who looked much more pathetic than you, in the town. I couldn't discern his words from that distance, but he made _such_ a disgusting spectacle of himself. Screeching and bawling to some Chantry woman, like an infant stung by wasps."

"You're a real piece of work… Did you stop to think about why? He probably saw his loved ones taken by the Darkspawn. What would you do, if your mother died?"

"Before or after I finished laughing?" Morrigan smiled.

"Creepy… forget I asked."

"No, you actually raise a good point. That would break someone who needed such support – you, however, have no excuse for being what you are."

"Couldn't you crawl into a bush somewhere and die? That would be great, thanks."

Sneering, she walked over to a tree away from the group and sat in the shade. Glaring at her resultant laugh of triumph, Alistair stood and plucked an apple from a branch.

Anders leaned over, "Don't worry. I'm sure she's deeply wounded you didn't react to the bait about letting recruits lead the group. Trust me."

Alistair sniffed at his apple, missing the joke. "I didn't hear that part, but good. Let her stew on that." Theron just groaned, muttering to himself in Dalish while testing his bow-string. Glancing over, Alistair said "Some help you were, agreeing with her just because she thinks you'd have trouble in town."

"Let's go over what I've seen of you Shem, shall we? This missing Commander we're meant to have, Duncan. Drags me off my death-bed while ransoming aid from the Keeper, because Dalish are more expendable recruits, and refuses to help my friend who was in the same condition. This 'great need' the Wardens had for recruits? To be shoved up an old Tower to light a beacon, clearly this crucial task needed me to be forced from everyone I know and poisoned with more Taint. Starting a fire on a stacked pile of oiled wood is such a monumental task beyond that of ordinary men, isn't it? Before that? Three scavengers in the forest, who had found old Dalish ruins and went inside to loot what they could carry, no doubt. Since they were honest with us and posed no threat, we gave them safe passage. Threatened by such reasonable actions, they riled up their village against us and drove my Clan out. Personal history or that of the People – no, I don't see why should I trust any Shemlen."

About to make a response, Alistair suddenly rose up and drew a sword. Brosca had taken to his feet as well, rubbing his forehead. "Is that buzzing…?"

"Darkspawn. They're nearby, too. Let's move."


	10. Dinner conversation

**A/N - Still going, horrific fortnights notwithstanding. Prequel story going up as well**

* * *

Finally allowed inside, Hawke led Cailan to the small dining room and gestured to the table. "Please, take any seat you wish."

Opting for a corner chair, he looked around. "Please, tell your mother not to worry. I'd rather not impose so much."

Carver took an end seat and shook his head. "Her side of the family are a big deal in Kirkwall; you probably just give her an excuse to act like it again."

Entering the room, Leandra gave both sons a withering stare while placing a bowl of fruit down. "I must apologise for the state of my home, Your Majesty… and for my children."

"It's quite fine, I apologise for being an unannounced burden. As for your sons, they're surely just weary after the battle and driving off those bandits they mentioned."

"Thankfully, it went well. They had barely returned home before they went off again to deal with those thugs, which didn't help my worry… and they dragged two of our guests along with them, without so much as a proper greeting."

"You have others here? I hope I'm not taking a seat from one of them."

"There's room enough, if they return. My daughter, Bethany went to town for groceries and you should have met two of them when you encountered my sons."

"There was a young man, but he seemed rather withdrawn?"

Hawke nodded, taking a plum. "One of the King's companions needed to find the guard-house, so 'Junior' offered to show her." Turning to Cailan, he added "We still haven't heard his real name, but his Dwarf friend, Varric, calls him Junior so we're just going with it."

"I don't remember seeing one of the stout folk earlier."

Shooting Carver another stare as he mouthed "Stout folk?" to himself, Leandra answered. "He returned earlier to let me know the bandits had been dealt with. He said he needed to send some mail and hear the latest rumours, so I assume he's at the tavern… I almost forgot. Kallian, there's no need to eat in the kitchen, please join us."

Slowly walking out, Tabris nervously took the furthest seat from Cailan. "I… perhaps I should stay back there, I don't want to take up someone's spot."

"You're fine here" Carver said, looking out the window. "The Wardens look satisfied under the trees… except for Garrett's dog begging from them."

"Doesn't he get enough from Junior?" Hawke stood and went to the window, whistling for his Mabari. Sitting back down, he turned to the fidgeting Elf. "Mother's hardly going to turn you out, don't worry so much. I guess you also don't have a lot of nobles suddenly dropping into your house, even back in Denerim."

Blanching at his joke, Kallian grabbed the water-jug and shakily poured a drink. "Just the one" she whispered before downing the cup.

Before anyone could respond, Varric entered through the side-door. "Looks like some more visitors, in the orchard. It's getting busier than Hightown, almost." Sitting down, he finally noticed Cailan. "Greetings, serah. Lovely town you've got here."

"It's hardly my town, but greetings to you too."

Taking a second look, Varric shrugged. "Sorry, you just look like the local mayor… judging by the painting in the tavern, that is."

Laughing, Cailan leant forward. "Oh yes, my infamous portraits! I'm told at least one dedicated critic has been buying them to destroy them… apparently; it's a rarity to still see one hanging up unless they know I'm coming. If I hadn't been so busy with the ceremonies, I'd have found a better artist."

Putting her cup down again, Kallian tapped the dwarf's shoulder. "Good news, you found the King."

"No – rumour says he's dead…. wait, _you_?"

"I'm not as dead as you might have heard… and the armour's not as big a give-away as you thought either." Cailan laughed, turning to Carver. Shrugging, the younger Hawke grabbed another apple.

Varric shoved his chair away from the table and stood. "Does Junior know he's here? Where is he?"

"He's in town somewhere, maybe the guard-house" Hawke said, before watching the Dwarf rush out the door.

"Maybe the cloak did fool someone, if Junior was meant to share that reaction to you" Carver said, taking a bite.

"So it would seem… I wonder what's so important."

Finally looking at the King, Kallian took a second to find her voice. "They only came this far south in the hope of finding you. He didn't say much, but Aedan made it sound important."

"Huh… he's got a name after all. Why did he tell you and not me? We were talking plenty before" Carver muttered.

"I get the impression he relates better to women… and don't talk while you're chewing" Leandra responded, frowning at his table manners.

"My cousin, Soris, is the same – probably from being raised by women. As for telling me, last night I asked why he kept being insistent I not go to Highever. He got that weird look again, and just said it wasn't a good idea. Then he wanted to know if I knew anyone named Iona or Amethyne in Denerim, but they don't sound familiar. He didn't say much else, but I think he was overwhelmed after listening to everything I had to say… he said he met Nelaros' family a few times, so he agreed to post anything I want to write to them."

"Just before we skipped the army, a rumour was spreading that there might be civil war in the north… maybe he got caught up in it."

"Perhaps… why would he be so committed to find the King? Your Majesty, do you know Aedan from somewhere?"

Scratching his head, Cailan searched his memory. "Bryce's youngest, perhaps? If he came from Highever, it's probably him. Last I heard, he was still abroad… and none of their forces made it to Ostagar. Perhaps there's something to that civil war rumour, after all."

Kallian shivered "I hope not – I want to tell Nelaros' family in person. Maybe Nessa would have helped shelter me, too."

Cailan looked at her carefully. "I've often heard the Highever alienage is better than most, but I haven't been able to inspect the truth of that. How are things in the Denerim alienage?"

"…. Your Majesty, do you want to know?"

"Please, yes. I'm never sure how glossed over my reports are, so speak freely."

Sighing, Kallian poured another drink. "Very well…. I think what I have to tell you should provide an example of Alienage life."

* * *

"When the guards came back for me, I wasn't sure if they would cut me down like Nola or drag me out by force. Soris arrived out of nowhere, and slid a weapon over to me… I cut them down like dogs. He and Nelaros had managed to get onto the grounds, and managed to knock out two guards by tripping them up on the soaked pavement. I only noticed the heavy rain once I found a window in one of the rooms, but it had also provided them enough cover to get into the estate. We got to Nelaros, just after some guards found him." She raised her hand, displaying the ring.

"I took this, and said a prayer for him. We finally got to Vaughn, and had him begging after we made short work of his two friends. Before I could do the same for him, another guard entered. He was followed by some other noble and his own guards. Knowing I only had seconds either way, I rushed Vaughn and slashed his face with a dagger before he had time to jump back. A guard knocked me out as I went for a second strike to make sure. I woke up, freezing, in a ditch outside of the city walls. Next to me was a bag, containing stale food and a note. It must have been from this other noble, whoever he was.

_My congratulations on a spectacular show, and making it much easier to dispose of Vaughn. To make my own story stick, however, I must make it known you caused his death. The city guard are aware of you, but I have somehow neglected to pass any news of you to other towns, if you were to disappear. Your poor friends were released without further harm, apart from your cousin. Rather than Fort Drakon, I shall decide his punishment myself. Should you return, though, both of you will suffer the full sentence dictated by the death of so many men. Happy travels._

I've been on the road ever since, initially hoping to take the Calenhad road north to Highever…. now, I'm not sure where to go. I used the note for kindling early on, so there's no chance of you recognising the writing." Looking around at the stunned room, she bitterly asked "Does that not match with the reports you've heard, Majesty?"

Spluttering, Cailan drained his own cup. "I…. see. Yet another thing that's no credit to my rule." Gathering his breath, he took a moment before speaking again. "I cannot speak for the courts, but I hope you find somewhere better. I will try to see about your cousin, when I return to Denerim."

Hearing something outside, Carver glanced back at the window. 'When did the Wardens leave?'

The door crashed open, as Varric and Aedan rushed in. Panting for air, they gestured in the direction of the town. "Bethany…. Templars got her!"


	11. Doubts

**Still going - pardon the delay... it just made things into a bigger chapter.**

* * *

Catching their breathe; the two Hawke brothers surrounded Aedan. "What happened?" Garrett asked, taking a step to his left to make a gap as Leandra caught up to them.

"We were in town, and she introduced me to someone from the Chantry. I… the conversation took a while, but before we could leave, the warning bells sounded. A small group of Darkspawn rushed the north gate; they must have circled around the town. With the people on that side of the river rushing the bridge, the Templars weren't able to reinforce the line. Two of the 'Spawn got through, a Templar and I had bows but our arrows barely seemed to slow them. Your sister… as they came over the bridge, she suddenly blasted them with flames. The Templars rushed in to finish the monsters off, and with that done, they rounded onto Bethany. They dropped her with some kind of energy wave – at this point, I had slipped behind the crowd and started running to find you."

"Damn it all… let's keep moving."

Walking past the refugee camp, Carver glanced over to notice they had begun to pack up their supplies. Getting further into Lothering, receiving odd stares from the village residents, the family stopped near the Chantry wall as Ser Bryant walked out to them. "I hoped you would arrive shortly… I'd like to keep this calm." Another Templar, one they didn't recognise, marched over to join the discussion. "This is her family, then?" Pinching his forehead, Bryant nodded. Not noticing the first gesture, the Templar studied the three Hawkes. "Good, saves having to find them." Unleashing a Holy Smite, his face softened when they had no reaction.

"My apologies, I had to be sure none of you shared her affliction. The Orlesian sister vouched for your frequenting of the Chantry. Having confirmed this with the Revered Mother, and hearing from other members of the community in regards to your family's worth, I'm inclined to think this was the first occurrence." Bryant again nodded, adding "There was also her expression when it happened, absolute shock."

"With the additional information I gathered, I would agree her shock was from it happening at all, and not from being seen. Such a late escalation of magical ability is rare, but I've heard of cases in such dire circumstance." Looking at the Hawkes again, he slowly sighed. "My report will reflect the latency of her ability, and its value in saving lives today. I will be taking her with me, when I return to the Tower tomorrow." Bryant gave Leandra a sympathetic look, and turned to his fellow Templar. "Do you have any objection if I let them see the girl?"

"I'm satisfied with matters; I'll leave it to your discretion until I return."

"Thank you, Ser Wesley. Leandra, please, follow me. We have her in a side-booth."

* * *

'Figures… the Templar who I help get to this town is the one who nabs someone from the family who helped me without condition.' Aedan thought, as he headed toward the northern gate. 'What else can I do to help crush people?' Trying to slip past the Wardens as they cleared away the dead Darkspawn from the path, he was stopped by Barlin. "Better wait until they're done out there. I don't think our luck can take a fourth chance." "My luck's been off for a long time… why would it be a fourth chance?" The older man pointed to where the Wardens had piled the bodies. "They could have done some real damage. Luckily, those Grey Wardens happened to be nearby, and cut down most of them outside the walls. Young Bethany, too, she stopped them dead." "I suppose that's a bright side – if she hadn't been stuck listening to me, she wouldn't have gotten snatched." Frowning, Barlin grabbed his shoulder. "It's a shame, yes. If she hadn't been there, though, those monsters would have cut down plenty. Besides, it's thanks to you that we had any warning at all." Puzzled, Aedan looked up at the shopkeep's face. "How do you figure that?" "The Darkspawn were out on the highway, when that bloodsucking merchant you drove off ran into them. One of his guards made it back, screaming about their approach."

"And all I had to do was send them off to the slaughter, over a price dispute. Hooray for me."

"Like I said, things would have been much worse. Look at it this way – only six people died, I'd say that's a miracle."

"Not if you were one of them… or them" Aedan replied, pointing over at the Hawke family. Shaking his head, Barlin headed back to the tavern. "Some people have to go looking for the misery in everything…" 'And others have it hunt them down, regardless' was the young Cousland's inner reply as he stepped through the broken gate. 'Maybe he's right, though. I'm no help for Highever if I keep doing this…'

Getting a brief nod from one of the Grey Wardens as he approached, he joined their group once they finished speaking to the caged Qunari. "You're one of the villagers, right? Is it true he killed a family?" their Mage asked. "So I'm told, but I arrived after it happened. I understand that he was found some distance from here, unconscious and nearly dead, and panicked after finally waking up in a strange place. He allowed himself to be taken, when he was found."

The Elven Warden, still watching the giant, nodded. "He mentioned the loss of his sword caused the massacre, but the disorientation would have been just as much a factor." "But he still killed them… and you really want to get him released?" another asked. "Alistair, we can use all the help we can get… isn't that why I got dragged along?"

"I can try talking to the Revered Mother. I'm not sure about this, though." Aedan stopped him before he left. "If you find the Orlesian sister, try asking her to help." Theron moaned at the suggestion. "Not the red-head... she's already babbled at us about her God and wanting to tag along. Let's try to avoid owing her any favours." The Mage smirked, "You did just say we need the help, my friend." "Obviously, Anders, I was hoping for people who aren't crazy. Fine, but she stays at the back of the group. Actually, let her walk with Morrigan and Neria. If she harps on about how her Maker loves them so much, even though His followers would condemn them to be locked up forever – maybe we'll get lucky and they will zap her into a toad or something, to make her shut up."

"And we're back to the toad thing…. Mages can't do that!"

Alistair smirked this time, not being the one mocked. "Maybe _you_ can't – doesn't mean there isn't a hidden tome about it." "You and your 'frog time' nonsense… just go see the Mother, already." Watching him leave, Anders turned back to the other Wardens. "Are we sure the Qunari isn't going to snap and murder anyone else?"

Brosca finally spoke up, "That was a one-off, trust me. I've seen the difference between murderous and momentary panic. Killing can come easy in a panic, but it'll hit hard after. That's why he let them arrest him... I saw it a few times, back when Beraht hired just anyone, got a lot of people who thought it would only be thievery." Seeing a brief spray of blood in his mind's eye, Aedan whispered "It's much easier than one might imagine…" under his breath as he remembered the soaked knife in his hand. Taking a seat, he listened to the Wardens discuss their travel strategy. Feeling something nudge his shoulder, Aedan looked over to see a Mabari watching him with a sad expression. After a brief sniff, it sat down as well and issued a howl.

Theron turned around, and sighed. "What's it doing now? Don't mind the hound; it's acted weird ever since we found it in the Wilds. Supposedly, it's decided I own it now since I helped it back at the war-camp." Anders let a faint wave of healing magic flow out. "Maybe a wasp stung it… is there a nest nearby?" Shaking his head, the young noble scratched behind the canine's ears. "He's fine, I expect he can sense my hound… died recently. I did get mine from a military breeder, there's a chance they had the same lineage." Studying the Mabari, Aedan gave a strange hum before gesturing hand-signals to it. Listening to its barks and whines, he nodded. "If you don't object to my amateur try at Mabari-handling, he's worried you haven't accepted him into your pack. He likes the one who… repeat that?" The Mabari gave a short burst of differing barks, and then looked over at a tree. "Someone else in your group who runs in between people and nature… I think. I've only learnt bit and pieces from breeders, and the old Ash Warrior who lived in Highever, so I may be garbling what he means. Maybe he means that Chashind woman you arrived with?"

Anders laughed "He was driving her mad earlier, begging for attention. I'll go check on the others, if you two are going to talk dogs… let me know when the cat discussion is." Brosca shrugged at both of his fellow Wardens, "The closest I came to keeping an animal was when Boermor used to pay me to chase down runaway Nugs, don't expect me to join in."

Sitting down on the other side of his Mabari, Theron watched it communicate with the young man. "Given he keeps using it with curses, I doubt we should ask what a Nug actually is" he offered, half-heartedly. "From the description I've read, they sound like overgrown rats, only incredibly placid. I could only find a few obscure references to them in the Kirkwall library; even though they once thrived there… maybe they followed the Dwarves' lead and cooked them."

Feeling queasy at the idea of eating rats, Theron quickly moved to a new topic. "So, you know a thing or two about dogs?" "I'm a long way from being a trainer, but I know the basics… you've got a fine specimen here, he must have been the pride of his kennel." Laughing at the animal's bark of assurance, Aedan continued. "Of course it's obvious, I'm just saying. What's his name?" Theron frowned, searching his memory. "I don't think I actually heard it. The kennel-master was distracted with grinding up the flower for its cure."

"Ah – no wonder he's feeling disconnected. He's been waiting to hear you say it… you'll have to give him a new one, then." "Right… a name. Halla? No, that's stupid." Whining, the Mabari watched him rub his forehead. "Um… no. Everything I think of is a feminine name. Hmm… not that. I'm hardly going to use Fen'Harel… do you know anything good?" "Me? Well… being a Warden and all, how about Garahel?" Theron thought about it, before replying "Garahel… maybe. I almost thought Shartan, but that's… predictable? It sounds like a good Elven name, too." Nodding at the Mabari's clear acceptance, he smiled. "Garahel it is, I see. What made you think of that?"

"Garahel? Wow… I was worried it would be on the nose. You don't know the name?" Seeing Theron's puzzled head-shake, Aedan shrugged. "Excuse me; I just assumed you would know. Garahel was the Elven Grey Warden hero; he ended the last Blight when he killed Andoral, four hundred years ago. "

"One of the People… I don't think I ever heard that story. I guess that's what I get for never listening to Paivel. You thought he'd be an inspiration to me, didn't you?"

"As another Grey Warden, yes. I apologise if that's a presumption."

"No, I can see why you'd think that. It's actually the nicest presumption I've gotten from a Shem… sorry, a Human. I never planned on being here, though. Alistair and the Commander found me, dying from Blight poisoning. Taking the chance it wouldn't kill me so fast, I was rushed off to Ostagar and made to join their Order. When I happened to be awake, I spent the whole journey cursing Alistair with everything I had. My friend, Tamlen, was with me in the cave… supposedly, the Commander said he'd keep an eye out, while destroying the source of the Blight in the cave. He never appeared at the fortress, though. Maybe he and Tamlen are both dead now… and I did nothing but screech at him when he sent us ahead, to be sure I'd go through the Joining in time. I hated Duncan, and my Keeper, simply for daring to save my life. That sounds incredibly stupid, of course? Being mad because I didn't die?"

Meeting the Elf's pained gaze, Aedan slowly shook his head. "Sounds familiar to all the gibberish I've inflicted on people. It's not that you're angry for living… you're feeling guilty for living when the others didn't, and you're trying to avoid feeling glad about surviving. That just amplifies the guilt and the best way to handle that is to blame anyone who helped save you. Problem is, though… that's actually the worst way to cope. I'm starting to see that, now. Damned if I can figure out what else to do, apart from making sure I'll speak for them. I'll stand over his grave, until I'm satisfied that he's dead, if I have to… see what I mean about rambling?" Theron eyed the young man carefully, before proceeding. "Sounds like you understand what I meant, far too well. If you…" Cutting Theron off before he could finish his offer, Aedan raised his head back up. "Not quite yet, I think… but thank you."

* * *

They sat for a while longer, Aedan demonstrating various Mabari commands and tips, before Anders returned with most of the Wardens' company in tow. "Pardon the wait, the King insisted on giving a speech to the village before the wagons starting going." Theron looked over to the highway, seeing the slow procession leaving. "Are they all leaving, then?"

"Most of them, but they'll be accompanied by a company of soldiers who were skulking around town. Apparently, they were sent back to track down some important deserter. Luckily for him, he knows Cailan and they had to surrender their warrant to Royal authority."

Theron shook his head. "No doubt he's coming along as well?" "Who knows?" Anders replied, looking over to the gate. "Anyone left will have to take their chances, when the Chantry pulls out tomorrow." The Mage turned to Aedan, smirking. "Sounds like your little group are coming with us, as well. Maybe you can be the official dog-trainer?" Frowning, Aedan replied "I wasn't aware I had a group, much less a travel schedule." "Your Dwarven friend, the Alienage girl and that little red-haired Sister, of course." "By the Creators…" Theron muttered under his breath, weighing up the idea. "So much for travelling light and quickly, I see."

Hearing Varric call out, Aedan stood up. "Excuse me, _Junior_ better see what's going on now." Stepping forward, he spotted the archer approach, leading another group. 'Kallian, the Sister… so that _was_ Cailan, in the kitchen, now I've time to actually see his face… I thought he'd be taller, after all these years… I know that grey-haired man from somewhere, too. I'm sure of it' he thought, quickly taking stock of the group as they rushed over to him. Finally noticing Carver with them, his surprise made him greet the younger Hawke brother first. "Don't tell me you're running south, after all?" "Not this time. The others are on one of those wagons… I'll catch up with them, either in Denerim or Kirkwall, since Mother insists we should go there. I don't trust that prig Templar, Wesley, not with my sister. I'm going to follow them to the Tower, until I know she's safe; I don't really care if he tries to object." Confirming her scowl with a quick glance, Aedan pointed to Aveline. "That reminds me, have you met his wife yet?" Allowing a brief smile as they glared at each other silently, he turned to the King and slipped into a bow. "My humblest apologies, your Majesty."

"I think we can ignore the formalities, today. You're Bryce's youngest, if I remember right?"

Aedan nodded, "You have a quick eye indeed, Sire. We haven't met, but yes, I am."

Smiling, Cailan placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. "We may not have spoken; true… however, I could scarcely forget someone who danced an Orlesian _gigue _twice with my fiancée, in front of most of the Bannorn. Not to mention, her father." The older man next to Cailan smiled as well. "If you had been in Denerim, you could have eaten for free the next three months; people would have gladly paid the tab to hear the story from you."

Aedan groaned, "Of course… I actually hoped that little legend of mine had gone away." Seeing Varric's grin, he paused. "Can I ask you to forget hearing that?" "Sorry, Junior. It's already filed away for future reference."

"Of course it is… you found the King, at least." "You caught me in a rare moment of promising something, Tethras honour dictated I either follow it through or I'd have to… that is, I'd have to buy your silence" he remarked, managing to correct the joke he intended to make. "

Cailan gave an apologetic look, cutting into the conversation again. "He also seemed compelled to make sure I heard you out. Word from the North has been slow enough lately, and now there's talk of a civil war. Bryce and Fergus never arrived at Ostagar, that's all I'm actually aware of. Elric hasn't heard anything new, either." The name finally triggering his memory, Aedan offered a handshake. "Apologies to you too, Ser Maraigne. I was struggling with your name." Gingerly accepting, Elric hesitated before saying "Please, my lord. Can you tell us anything of what's happened?"

Nodding slowly, Aedan led the two men away from the group. Looking up to spot Varric approach, in case he needed to take over the telling, Aedan saw it wasn't the just the Dwarf who had joined them. Theron and Kallian both offered sympathetic nods, willing to listen in return for his own kind ear, while Leliana stood between Carver and Aveline, apparently a buffer to block their mutual hostility. Finally, he noticed the Chashind woman standing to one side, her face seemingly dripping with impatient boredom. "Well? Let us see if your tale justifies that embarrassing display you made earlier in the day, yes?" Returning the various stares she got from the group with her trademark disdain, Morrigan continued waiting. "Tis not the reason the rest of you wish to listen? Hmm, no matter."

Feeling the utter bizarreness of the situation propel him on, Aedan nodded. "Just… bear with me, here?" he asked as he began.

* * *

_I swear, they get out of Lothering next time. I finally found the traffic stats, and I see there's enough reading that I should apologise for the pace - and the update pace. Somehow I missed the Follow too, sorry _Andarwill_, I would have thanked you much sooner._


	12. Additions

Looking back and forward from the Imperial Highway to the huddled group, Alistair absently twirled the key in his hand. "There won't be much point, hitting the road today. There's not going to be much light left by the time we gather up our gear… even if they do finish their conversation soon." Brosca nodded, about to reply when Cailan turned from the others. Paled, the young King stood in silence before finally saying "He really imagined such treachery could possibly escape the Crown's fist?" seemingly asking himself. Returning to the younger noble, he struggled for composure. "I will turn the armies north, the soonest moment I am able. I promise you… I only wish I could offer proper respite for your grief."

"I'm not sure anyone could, Sire. But thank you…"

"What next? You were no doubt hoping to find the army intact; will you return north and bolster the resistance?"

Aedan shook his head. "I made getting here my sole focus, to keep from falling apart. I didn't stop to consider it. Varric, what do you think?"

"Honestly, Junior, it's a terrible idea. Most of the people we fought through were clearly mercenaries, and they'd have to know you survived. Even if they didn't begin scouting for you, you'll be marked – taking a set location, while fighting against their forces simply widens the bulls-eye."

Cailan frowned, "You're sure they were mercenaries?"

"Definitely - only the group who went straight for the House chambers bore any emblem. Convincing his officers to carry out a cold-blooded purge against the Family is one thing, but slaughtering everyone down to the servants? That requires much less _regimental_ training, not to mention, they had an apostate with them, too. Fair too tanned to have been a Circle member... outside of the Free Marches."

Elric nodded, watching the Dwarf. "You've a talented eye for such things, indeed. Did you train with a militia?" Varric scoffed, "Too many rules… I'm a self-made man. Doing business amongst the Kirkwall Guild simply requires the same mind-set as running combat, it seems."

Theron waved his hands, without his usual frustration at increasing the group. "Sounds like your best option will be travelling with us, at least for the time being."

Cailan agreed, "Please… until we're ready to return to Denerim. We shall both see the Couslands avenged, before the entire Landsmeet. I swear it."

"I… yes. Thank you, all of you." Seeing she had already abandoned the conversation, Aedan added "Well, maybe not the Chashind woman, I guess. But everyone else… you still willing to stick this out, Varric?"

"Until the end, if I have to. Oriana was my friend too, and I always pay my debts. We'll make sure to settle what Howe owes, as well."

Looking over to Kallian, Aedan paused. "If I might presume to ask, I hope you'll let her come along. She… has her own reasons to be…" Cutting him off, Cailan nodded.

"She's explained her situation to me already, my friend. It's another injustice I need to see made right. I've been adrift in the big picture so long; I'm struggling to process just what has happened under my absent watch… I never appreciated how much our fathers had to do, without letting the country fall to darker impulses. Miss Tabris, I hope you'll join us as well – you need to be heard also."

"I'm at a loss for options, but don't think that lowers how I appreciate your offer." Giving a soft smile, she added "Besides that, meeting Nobility who actually know the wider meanings of that word? I'd have to follow, just to study two aberrations such as you."

Noting Alistair's eye linger on the eye as he finally approached, Cailan smiled. "Three, actually, if you wish to be thorough about your inspection." Turning to Elric, she shrugged. "I apologise, my lord. I hope I didn't offend you." About to correct her, the knight got an odd look from Cailan and Alistair before it also passed between the two. "Ah… no offense taken, milady. I clearly don't look the part, I know."

About to say something, Cailan felt a need to turn back to the young Cousland. Standing quietly, Aedan simply watched the three men with a thoughtful expression. Varric looked up, also noticing his face. "Got something spinning your mind-wheel, Junior?"

"I thought I noticed something… don't worry about it. Sorry to interrupt, Sire" Aedan gave a slight nod to Cailan, who returned the gesture. 'He's got Eleanor's quickness, I see… better have a quiet word. Later – get on with it' "Of course… I hope you Wardens don't mind us burdening your mission, if we're going to travel together."

Alistair stepped forward, "No burden, your Majesty. Though I must say – we've lost the light with everything that's happened. We won't travel far at all this evening; perhaps we should set out tomorrow?"

"Most of your gear is still at our place, right?" asked Carver. "I've got a key, so you won't have to camp outside, your Highness. I'll be on the road early, in case they cart Bethany off at daybreak, but I think I can trust the King to lock up behind himself."

Turning to the red-haired soldier when she rolled her eyes at the boy, Theron stopped and did a quick count. "I assume you're still going to travel with the King?" Aveline gave a nod, still locking eyes with Carver. "I see Alistair got the key… that will make fourteen if the Qunari still agrees to follow us. Alistair, go get Brosca and Anders. Your Kingness, can we speak in private?"

* * *

Once the other Wardens had joined them by the tree, Theron held up a hand. "I don't think I need to point out how quickly our little group has grown. Not enough to change our need to chase these treaties, but enough to hamper the goal. I think we should each take a small group and go after each target at once."

They all nodded, some more hesitantly. Brosca was the first to voice his approval, "If it's true the 'Spawn will be able to sense the Taint as it settles in us, we probably shouldn't have so many Wardens travelling in a pack anyway. Not unless we want any straggling packs coming at us constantly."

Cailan replied, "From what little Duncan explained to me, of the Joining, that's true." The Wardens all turned to him. "He stressed the secrecy, and was quite vague about it. It was that long ago, I almost forgot anyway."

"This was before the Blight, then?" Pausing at Anders' question, Cailan nodded.

"It was last year, actually. He felt it prudent we speak about an intended recruitment."

Before the others could say anything, Alistair took over the conversation. "Yes, well, let's get back to the point. Who goes where, and whom do we take with us?" Feeling them all stare at him, he got nervous at their bemused expressions. "What?"

Brosca sighed, taking the treaty pouch. "What was it Flemeth said? 'Dwarves, Elves, Mages…' right?"

"And Arl Eamon, yes."

"Who you apparently know, so you'd be the one to go there."

"That'll please Isolde to no end, but sure."

"This just leaves the actual treaties. Which are for?"

"Like you said 'Dwarves, Elves, Mages... this sounds like an army to me' well, Flemeth said that actually, I guess."

"And what are we?"

"Grey Wardens?"

Groaning loudly, Theron stepped to the other side of Anders. "If he doesn't get it this time…."

"If there's something I'm missing, you could just say it." Alistair muttered, weary of their continued stares. They looked at each other, before Brosca shrugged and answered. "Dwarves"

Theron gave him a second, sighing at the lack of response. "Elves."

"I haven't forgotten already, you know. Mages."

Shaking his head, Anders let him finish. "You know, you should look at us when you talk."

"You shouldn't need _me_ to repeat the word, since you're a Mage… Elf… Dwarves. See, this is why I keep saying one of you needs to be the leader" he groaned, ashamed at his demonstration of oblivious confusion. "Maker, I'm an idiot."

Brosca shrugged again, "Let's just say you're tired after the last few days."

"No, I think you should go with Alistair's assessment, since he managed to be self-aware for once."

"Morrigan… something you need? Tea, sugar… a river to jump in?"

"Just checking on where you had all gotten to, since the others are starting to drift back to the farmhouse. I was merely concerned nobody would tell you, and you would sit here until somebody had to travel back and fetch you."

"You're so very kind…"

Brosca, having heard enough of their sniping already, cut in. "As I was saying, since I'll be underground and away from eyes, maybe I should take the people who might not welcome large groups of troops or Templars. How about I take the Qunari? The boy seems jittery too, which I guess means I'm bringing his Dwarven friend as well. Hopefully he knows the way, or the boy can read a map to keep me on course."

"_You_ don't know the way to Orzammar?" Alistair joked, "I'm not the only slow one, today."

"He doesn't know how to find it on the surface, fool! He has never been here before."

Feeling the sneer radiate from the Apostate behind him, Alistair dropped his smile. "If you follow the West Road around Calenhad Lake into the mountains, through Gherlen's Pass…"

"All of that? Doesn't exactly mean much, no offense" Brosca pointed out. "I remember following water south, and the Mage's Prison." Theron nodded, "The west tends to look the same after a while – just go with Anders to the Prison, and once you hit the northern roads you'll see the signposts."

"Going back there without being tied up… what a concept!" Anders replied. "To the Prison it is, then."

"So we're all calling it a prison, now? Lovely."

"You wish we should sugar-coat things, for your Templar sensitivity, hmm?" came over his shoulder with another blast of disdain. "Dress it up with your words, if you like, it doesn't alter what it is."

"Let's just get moving" Alistair offered. "Your lovely mother stressed urgency, after all."

"Indeed. Although your description is puzzling, I'd not have thought her your type. Even without being an apostate of legend, or do you admire her spirit?" Morrigan asked mockingly.

"It's in all the face, actually. You're not far behind, though – and your nose does look exactly like hers."

Brosca allowed himself a slight smirk as they walked off, taking a peripheral glance at the fuming Witch. 'I think he actually rendered her speechless.'

"I hate you so much!" she finally hissed through her teeth, marching past the group in anger.


	13. Campfire interludes

Dropping down onto a log, Brosca took off his helmet and shook his head. 'This thing doesn't breathe at all… I hope I can find another one.' Seeing Aedan walking among the small crowd with a water bucket, he waved the man over. Taking a small sip, the Dwarf then poured some over his neck. "Good news, my new friend. You're in my group tomorrow. You can read maps, yes?"

"I can… what group is this?"

"It'll be quicker if we split into smaller parties and go after the treaties, instead of going for them one by one. Four Grey Wardens together would probably give off a signal to the 'Spawn, as well… and then, there's what Flemeth said."

"Flemeth?"

"Seems everyone up here has heard of her… yeah, _that _Flemeth, whatever that means. According to her, since half the forces never arrived for Ostagar, there were only a few skirmishes and not an actual battle. Even if things had gone badly for our side, we would have still carved apart much of the Horde and forced them to withdraw and regroup for months. Without that, and without the other Wardens, we only bought a little leeway and time is on the Archdemon's side – that's what she told the King, he says."

"No, why would something go our way?" the young man sighed. "What's the plan?"

"We're going for Orzammar, to shore up their support. Yourself and your Archer, so you can stay out of the towns for now, me, and the Qunari… where is the big guy?"

"Sten? He, well… he allowed himself four words, and went to the out-house."

Brosca looked over at the small structure. "That's no doubt exactly what I think it is… fair enough."

* * *

Alistair and Theron stood at the clearing's edge, watching the others. "So, what's your idea? If I take Cailan, his friend and the lady Knight and leave them in Redcliff, who else?"

"I think I'll take Morrigan and Neria, less of these Templars out in the Forests. Who does that leave?"

"Carver's apparently heading out for the Tower."

"So he'll be Anders' problem, if they run into each other on the way to the Prison" joked the Elf.

"Yeah, that place… so, the lady from the Alienage and the Sister, then." Before they could speak again, an argumentative bark cut them off. "You're obviously following Theron, do we really need to mention you?" Receiving a snarl in response, Alistair shrugged. "The lady from the Alienage, the Sister and the Mabari. What do you think?"

"If you two are going to argue, I better take Garahel." The hound barked in agreement, walking away from the two. "Don't let the name go to your head!" Alistair called after it. "You take the Sister; see if you can ditch her in Redcliff as well. Maybe I can leave the other girl with whichever Dalish tribe I find, if she wants to learn some history from them. Neither seem like they'll be much against the Darkspawn, I think."

"I think you better go grab your dog. Now." Alistair suddenly said.

* * *

Brosca lifted his head up from the fruit he had sliced, hearing the Mabari growl at the returning Qunari. Aedan slowly stood up and moved to one side as they continued to growl at each other. He lifted a hand to stop Theron as he ran over, carefully watching the stare-down.

"You are a true warrior, and worthy of respect." As Sten returned to a standing position, Aedan pointed over to Brosca. "He'd like to ask you something, when you're ready."

"If you insist."

"Careful, he'll talk your ear off if you let him" Theron commented as the Mabari walked to his side. "What was that about?"

"I think they were just sizing each other up, and liked what they saw."

"You think? Can't you ask him, like back at the town?"

"Oh, you didn't know I was joking. You can get the general meaning of a Mabari, when you know the gestures. I just played it up, and I saw him bothering your Wilder friend before that… I used to see if I could fool people with the act, with my hound… I guess I fell back into the routine, wishing he were here."

"I knew a Ranger from another tribe who could do it; I just figured you had good teachers."

"Not that good, and I've never met a Dalish hunter before. Looks like Alistair's got the Royal procession… what about your group?"

"The two Mage women and the city girl. We'll see if we can find one of the tribes."

"Keeping her off the main roads, too. Good idea."

Theron raised a brow. "Ah yes, you two met before. Is there a story I should know?"

"I don't know if I should get into it too much… short answer, she's wanted by the Denerim guards."

"Hmm… maybe she won't be dead weight if we have to fight. I should let her know about the arrangements, then."

Across the clearing, they heard Morrigan loudly snap at Surana. "I do not probe you for pointless information, do I?" Aedan shook his head. "Such a friendly tongue she has – good luck with those two."

"She's got her mother's charm; true… hopefully, Flemeth handed down her talent as well."

"That's her mother? _The_ Flemeth?" Aedan asked, stunned.

"So she claimed. Even if she's not, you can sense the power from her."

"Brosca mentioned… huh. I guess I'll have to try being polite, since our families go back so far. So to speak." Shaking off the thought, they moved on to where Kallian and Leliana sat. Overhearing the conversation as they approached, Theron's face dropped into a scowl.

* * *

"A well-trained Elven servant is highly valued, in Orlais. They are nimble and dexterous, and many people find them pleasing to look at."

Cutting off the discussion, Theron stepped forward to stare down at them. "How very nice… one could give the same description to a prize-winning animal. Perhaps you know some Lord she can offer herself to? What's the finder's fee, I wonder?"

Aedan covered half his face with a hand, as Leliana tried to babble an apology from her shamed shock. Glaring, Kallian rose up and stared fiercely at the Dalish. "Oh, spare us the self-righteous sneer! I'm sure it's nice, running around the woods and not having to make a difference, but guess what? You're out in the actual world now, where things have consequences. But not to worry, right? Once you're done, you can wander off to your fantasy – those of us who can face current events aren't going to miss you!" She shoved the larger Elf backwards, almost sending him off-balance, before she sat down again. Waving off Leliana's continuing apology, she turned back to Theron. "Ignore him; they're all just relics of the past." Watching him snarl, she gave a wicked smile. "As for your idea, Mr Superior – I met _three_ Lords who thought me something to be offered up. They all had a short and messy disagreement with a sword I borrowed."

Throwing up his hands, he marched off in disgust. "Flat eared trollop…" he muttered on his way.

"Don't worry, my quota filled with those three. You're quite welcome to sit, my Lord."

Sliding down against a tree, Aedan hung his head in shock. "Well… that could have gone better. Or worse, I suppose. I'm sorry about his reaction, I should have…"

Kallian shook her head. "Not much you could have done, if he's going to spit nonsense at a simple discussion of where my people are. Playing make-belief that its a thousand years ago is just denial, if you ask me. Or a child's game, one of the two."

Turning to the other woman, she added. "Please, don't worry about it. I'm just sorry he ruined our conversation."

"But – what you said. I didn't mean to make yourself a" Leliana started, before being shushed.

"I know. I can accept people I trust knowing what happened… mostly. As for him, I don't care what he thinks about it, or me. Did he even want anything, or did he come over to judge?" she asked Aedan.

"Umm, well – the Wardens have decided to split up for faster travel, and regroup after getting their treaties seen to. You're in his group, it seems."

"… Well then, this'll be a lovely journey."

* * *

The sound of an approaching wagon broke Cailan's gaze on the sunset, making him turn to see it pull up near the house.

He strode over, joining Aedan who was welcoming the two dwarves as they stepped down.

"Your Highness, may I introduce Bodahn Feddic?"

"At your service, Majesty. I was hoping to find your group before it left – perhaps I have items they might need, and the road is safer in numbers these days."

"Perhaps you will, Serrah Feddic. We'll be splitting into smaller parties in the morning; maybe they'll peruse your stock before they leave."

Bodahn bowed appreciatively, before turning to Aedan. "We still have some of your items in the back as well, meserre." Nodding, he walked to the wagon and rummaged through the pile in the dying light. Finding his backpack safely placed in the back corner, he turned to the merchant. "Is that blade still here?"

"I moved them so they wouldn't get lost in the pile; it's in the rack underneath the wagon. I've learnt it's best to keep rarer items out of sight."

Crawling under, the youth finally managed to unclasp it. Rolling out, Cailan took the large sword from him as he got back to his feet.

"What in Andraste's name is this?" the King asked, looking it over.

"I picked it up from a shady little trader in the north, as we were heading south. I thought it would look menacing to any would-be highwaymen. It's a bit too unwieldy for actual use, though, but that's to be expected. He insisted it's a Qunari weapon, but I don't know where he would… Oh."

* * *

Taking the weapon back, he walked over to Sten. Watching the giant slowly inspect a bowl of food someone had given him, Aedan cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Sten?"

"I'm not aware your actions need excusing."

"… cute. I'm sorry if I'm disturbing your meal, but…"

"It is no problem, the meal is already disturbing" he sighed, staring at it.

Turning to Cailan, Aedan whispered "He's got hundreds of those lines saved up, I'm sure of it."

"Anyway… I obtained this on the road, days ago. I'm wondering if you recognise it?"

Holding the blade out, he waited for a reaction. 'Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out…' bounced around the young man's head, unsure if it was meant for him or the Qunari.

Sten finally took the weapon, his expression showing an unreadable change before he turned and walked to one of the larger tents and disappeared inside. Brosca watched, turning back to the humans. "If he thanks you, it'll probably be tomorrow. Less onlookers, I expect. Good thing young Carver found their old three-sleeper tent, we might have needed to stitch two of ours together for Sten."

* * *

Finishing preparations with her own small pot, Surana spooned out the contents into three bowls. Asking Theron to hold one out of his Mabari's reach, she picked up the other two and looked around the group. Walking over to Anders first, she offered one. "You better save room for this, too."

"Or I'll have it first, if it's better than Alistair's attempt." Sitting on the nearest log, Morrigan snorted. "I expect that mangy hound would prove a better cook than the fool." Taking the bowl, he sniffed it hesitantly before dropping in a finger and tasting it.

"This tastes like the gloppy soup they always give us for supper in the Tower." Trying another small dab, his face turned. "It is, isn't it?"

"I got the recipe from Wynne" Neria started to say, as he poured out the bowl and returned to his initial one.

"No offense, but I'd rather try something new… so sick of that stuff" Anders muttered, as she sighed and offered the last bowl to Morrigan. Repeating his taste-test, she paused thoughtfully. "A very odd combination of herbs and the preparation too… unless the intent is…" pausing again to sniff the bowl, she nodded. "I believe I know this mixture, but not as a meal. Tis quite smart of your Circle to continually serve it at night, even if they make no attempts to give it novelty."

Looking over at the two, Anders was confused. "What are you talking about?"

Morrigan snorted again, as Neria gave him a soft grin. "You'll figure it out, in the morning."

* * *

After some time passed, Cailan found himself by the camp-fire as those still awake debated the first watch line-up. Brosca was the assigned Warden, watching Varric and Aedan rolling 'the lucky Tethras dice' in a contest to pick his companion for the duty, since Kallian had already beaten the two men.

Interrupting his betting discussion with the Elf about Aedan and Varric, Elric grabbed Cailan by the shoulder and moved him away from the camp-fire. "I think we have a problem, Sire."

Frowning, the King looked at his second. "The chest you recovered from Ostagar... is it Celene's letters?"

"Not quite – I had removed them all, and was burning them in the house's stove."

"Good – I'll be glad when I can pretend they never existed. What could be wrong then… my father's sword?"

"When I looked up from stoking the last few pages into the flames, I noticed the soldier at the kitchen table… she said she couldn't sleep, and she had begun looking over your notes for the battle. She was quite insistent, claiming a quick strategy session would calm her mind. I'm worried she might realise what you intended."

Trying to remember what he had jotted down amongst the strategy drafts, he looked over as he heard a door slam open, as if on cue.

Finally spotting Aveline from the fire-light reflecting off her sword, Cailan braced himself as she approached in rage. Her gut-punch dropped the young King to one knee, before another came to his jaw and spun him face-first to the ground. Seeing the stunned on-lookers by the fire, she marched over and settled her gaze on Aedan.

* * *

"I daresay he'll prefer your company in the morning, and I'd rather not look at him again… you agree to swapping groups?" Still dumbstruck, he simply nodded as she vanished into the night and back to the house. Breaking the silence, Kallian finally spoke. "While we're switching, I'll join that group with you" she told the young man. "I'd much prefer your company, and Theron can fill his fourth spot with that dog since he likes pedigree animals so much." Smiling at the joke, he turned to Varric. "What about you?" Shaking his head, his Dwarven friend poked at the fire while Elric helped Cailan to his feet as they headed over to the house.

"I can get some Guild business out of the way, in Orzammar – that'll help shut Bartrand up when I get home. I guess I should see the city once, at least, and when else will I get a chance?" With an unnoticed peripheral glance at Kallian as she watched Aedan, he added "I hardly think you'll get into any unwanted trouble before we regroup, I'm sure things will be just fine until then… hopefully you enjoy it."

Picking up the dice, Aedan nodded absently, not picking up on the Dwarf's meaning. "Well then, we just have to settle who's on watch?"

Suddenly appearing in the light, Morrigan sat down. "I believe I shall. I doubt any of you wanted it too much, and that display from our red-haired associate has me far too amused to sleep just yet. Perhaps I can slip something into her food in the morning, so she and the King can give an encore for those who missed it?"

Too tired to respond, most of the group retreated to their tents. Turning to Brosca, her grin remained wide. "Silence does not equal disapproval, I find. I shall consider it a mutual 'maybe'."


	14. Departures

**Back again - got through a hectic period at work, had to do the work of two people who left on top of my stuff - still, it gave me time to hammer out the last few characters in my notes (Finally decided who's going to die... dun dun dun). Couldn't think of a reason for the Flemeth wardrobe change between games... so it's just something she does when she travels? *hand-wave*  
**

* * *

_Puzzled, he looked around at his new surroundings. _

'Crumbling buildings, in the back of a dusty cavern… was this a slaver waypoint?'

_His body, again moving unwilled, entered one of the structures. A dour-faced Dwarven woman and the same bizarrely attired Human from the earlier vision both turned to watch him. The taller woman, now visibly Flemeth, gave an appraising look in his direction while the Dwarf took a swig from a bottle._

"There y'are then, that's him."

"So I see. Tell me more, about your child…"

_Everything shifted again, and he was now in a stone hallway. Briefly snatching a look at the decorated walls, his new body made its way to another door as it slowly opened._

_Still in the armour, Flemeth walked out and gave him an odd smile._

"Ah, here is the boy himself, I assume?"

_An exhausted looking man appeared as well, looking down at him._

"Pup? What are you doing down here so late?"

_Clearly bored, she brushed off the odd crimson-coloured chainmail that covered her. _

"I had a bad dream… now I can't sleep." 'I sound even younger than I did in the woods dream, if that was me…' _he thought._

"Curious timing you have. Perhaps you're dreaming this, too."

"Is that why your hair is like that?"

_Laughing, she gave another weird smile. _

"That's a good question, if rather blunt for one of your family."

_The man had sat down on a bench, sighing._

"Perhaps if you finish your dreaming properly, in your bed, things will make more sense. Meanwhile, curious child, your father and I will continue our discussion."

_His body turned and left, rounding a corner. Their voices carried down the passage, making him pause as the two spoke again._

"You're sure, then?"

"Not entirely. Destiny is burning around him, I can tell that much. Not enough to be readable… it may just be the promise that comes of being a lord's son, that gives him an intriguing path to yet follow. One of the other six may be on the path that will require my guidance, and I have even more still to prepare for different fates. I may not have the time to speak to you again, before they are forced into action, but I shall have an eye on the boy at times. I can give you a guarantee, though."

"Yes?"

"Should I get a clear view at which child of the seven will be required to fight against the oncoming storm, and it is not the boy to save your country, I shall let you know. You can ransom him for a dowry, if that's what is done with a secondary heir. I've not been around the inner workings of this castle for quite some time, so maybe things have changed."

_Things briefly spun into the same mist, before the same corridor appeared in his vision again. More voices could be heard now, screaming in panic. He looked down at a shield in his hand, raising it as a bellowing roar echoed off the blood-soaked walls. A group of bears charged around a corner, taking down people as they ran. The largest of the animals stepped forward, watching him. The beast, its fur a greying tinge, seemed to sneer as its jaw flexed. Red fluid dripped from its teeth as it roared again and turned its focus to a doorway, before barrelling through the wooden barrier. As more screams sounded from within, he finally fought off the visions and awoke._

Sitting up groggily, Anders looked around in confusion. 'You're camping out by the farmhouse, remember?'

* * *

Rubbing his eyes, he crawled out of his tent and looked at the stars. "You had the dragon dream too?" Theron asked, his voice coming from the fire-pit. Joining the others, he sat down across from the other Wardens. "Dragon? Everything else, it felt like."

Pointing to Alistair and Brosca, the Elf shrugged. "Those two sprung up before, something about Dragon Darkspawn."

"The Archdemon – that's how we know it's a Blight."

"Apparently we'll be having these dreams a lot… but only for thirty years" Theron said, darkly.

"Just thirty years? What happens after that?"

Brosca shrugged, "That's the interesting bit… there's a lot they didn't tell us upfront."

Shifting uneasily to face Anders, Alistair nodded. "Well, in addition to all the other wonderful things about being a Grey Warden, you don't need to worry about dying from old age. You've got thirty years to live. Give or take. The taint... it's a death sentence. Ultimately your body won't be able to take it. When the time comes, most Grey Wardens go to Orzammar and die in battle rather than... waiting. It's tradition."

"I always wondered why most of the groups who passed through looked older" Brosca commented, watching the fire.

Theron watched their faces, as he sat back. "So… they don't tell this to people who join willingly? It's not just the sick captives who get no warning?"

"You think if we asked for volunteers, the Wardens would exist? You wouldn't be here, and neither would I."

"At least I see why you only take people who've been abandoned by the Shem-Lords" Theron spat back, pointing at the other recruits. "Clearly expecting Humans, the ones not thrown away for daring to be born with magic, to save themselves isn't a valid option!" Watching him storm off into the darkness, Anders and Brosca stared a look before turning to Alistair.

"… I can't argue with him, but I get your side too. The only people who ever hit a decent age in Dust-town are the drunks… this seems a better way to go."

Anders remained quiet longer, watching the faint pre-dawn glow lighting the horizon. "Hmm… I suppose it makes sense. It's got to be better than a lengthy non-life in the Tower, going mad from the same walls every day… especially once we're heroes for saving the world."

"One question, though" Brosca spoke up. "If I can pick up one of Theron's points… are you sure this Arl Redcliff is going to help? The camp rumours were saying barely any of the Nobles had sent their own men."

"That was hopefully due to Cailan's impatience… but I know Eamon. He's a good man; he even sent word to Cailan he just needed a week to mobilise."

Flopping down next to them, Aedan wiped a faint remnant of vomit from his mouth. "I wouldn't be so quick to trust an Arl… this is the perfect time of chaos for self-advancement."

Anders handed him a water flask, which he took for just a sip. "I better let my stomach settle, first. I had to cough up dinner, after that nightmare."

"Don't tell me you had the Dragon dream too?" Brosca asked.

"Dragon? … no. Bears. The Bear" the young man muttered, his gaze wavering between various points in the distance.

"I think we had the same one… that and an armoured version of Flemeth touring the countryside, rambling about children she was watching" Anders offered, shrugging in confusion.

"Crazy white-haired woman? … That makes two we both had" Aedan replied. "How does that even work?"

Surana also sat down at that moment, watching the sun slowly appear. "Mages can unknowingly channel nearby dreams, if there's enough people nearby. _That_ is why they always serve that dish for supper, in the Tower. It contains a mixture of herbs which will dull the ability – Morrigan says she knows how to mix it as a harsh liquid, I guess the Circle developed an edible version over the years." She handed a scroll across to Anders. "Here – you'll probably want it when you're off in Weisshaupt, down the road."

"If you didn't tune into any dreams, why are you up?"

She pointed over one shoulder with her head. "Your happy friend woke me – says he wants to head off early. Muttered something or other, he's not exactly verbose about things."

"Slight disagreement on Warden policies, short answer" Anders replied, looking at the sunrise. "I better get ready too, if the Hawke brother is still going to trail the Templar… they'll have a better idea of where to go than I do. It'll make for an interesting sight, if anyone's travelling the other direction – a three deep procession, stalking each other."

"Four, I guess. Unless Tethras or that warrior woman know the way, I'm just following the same roads too."

"I thought she was in my group, to watch Cailan?" Alistair asked, looking up.

"Oh yeah, you missed the show last night. Only a few of us were still awake, but she must have had a rash in her smalls about something – she marched across the field and belted the King into the ground. The Witch was giggling for half of our watch-shift about it."

Aedan nodded "Whatever it was, she looked like she wanted a few more shots at him. She got enough composure to suggest we switch our groups, and stormed away just as quick as she came. I haven't been to Redcliff since I was a kid… oh, and Kallian decided to jump over as well, since her and Theron had that unpleasantness yesterday."

As if summoned, the Elven Warden appeared in the light. "Good, actually – I'm surprised she had enough smarts to think of it." He held out a hand to Alistair, who shook it hesitantly.

"Good luck… if the roads start getting washed out, go to the Warden compound in Denerim and send word to Redcliff."

Surprised, Theron nodded. "I just wanted the treaty… but thanks. Neria, you know to how handle a dispatch?"

"No problem at all" she replied, shouldering her pack. Pausing in thought, she looked around the group. "So long as I'm not going to get dragged away for being outside the Tower."

Alistair shook his head. "You should have gotten a Mobilisation Writ, when your group left the Tower. If they try to argue it, get Theron to acknowledge that you're under Warden supervision until you return to the Tower."

"Or you could simply mind-fry any simpleton who gets in your path" Morrigan added. "Unless you prefer the low-key approach."

"Yeah… I'm kind of low on Potions, so let's not heat-wave anyone unless they insist."

"A fair point – we'll be aiding future generations by removing the weaker minds from the chance of breeding, if it helps."

Rubbing his forehead, Alistair simply sighed as he fished the Dalish treaty out of his pack.

"Any other surprises that might pop up, in my mission?" Theron asked, slipping the scroll into a pocket on his own pack.

"Apart from my unhealthy love of cheese? No, there's no more troubling answers."

"Right… we'll see you around, when it's time to assemble." Throwing some jerky to Garahel, he nodded to his group and they set off towards the Imperial Highway.

* * *

After watching them go, the remaining Wardens slowly stood. "I'll go check on Cailan and Elric, hopefully they don't expect a Castle breakfast" Alistair joked, heading for the house.

Brosca walked away as well, lightly kicking at the outlines within their tents, one by one until he found Sten already up and packing.

"I rose for my morning prayers, so I am ready for the road" the giant offered, before noticing Aedan folding up a tent. "I shall speak with that one, while you prepare yourself." Walking over quietly, he waited until Aedan stood.

"I must thank you properly, for being the instrument behind returning Asala. It was crafted for my hand alone… I could not have returned home without it."

"I'm just glad I could help, then. It means 'soul', right?"

"You understand our tongue? Yes, that's precisely what it is to me. I understand that's not a common way of thought amongst your people."

"I studied the main languages, and learnt some basic Qunari speech. We tend to see our Mabari as an extension, rather than weapons… those lucky enough to bond with a hound."

"Their spirit impresses me; until I remember how they stink after the rains… you have an odd country."

"You don't care for it? Most of the people I met while travelling thought the same."

"Nobody is content with their place here. Your farmers wish to be merchants, the merchants dream of being nobles, and the nobles become warriors… what of you?"

"I… don't know, anymore. I was just content to study, while waiting to see if my father wanted me around the court. I'm not sure what I am, honestly… I always thought someone would tell me."

Nodding softly, the Qunari searched through his belongings. "Perhaps the Qun can help, if you've realised a need for purpose" he said, handing over two books. "Those should be a good beginning, especially since you're already a student of other lands. 'Knowledge of the complex is wisdom'. If you had remained in our group, I could offer more."

"Thanks, Sten. I'm sure we'll meet again after they run down their Warden treaties, we can discuss it further."

"I shall hope so. I had not expected to meet someone so receptive."

"Can I ask… why did you come?"

"The Arishok asked 'What is the Blight?' We were meant to discover this… perhaps I can find an answer, by following the smaller Warden. I understand his people have a similar understanding of purpose, even if they squander those who may be as resourceful as he seems, by forcing them to be without a role. Much remains to be seen."

"I hope you find something, then. I get the feeling there wasn't anything helpful for you on the surface?"

"There is… interesting food here. It doesn't have a word in the Qunari tongue. Little baked things, like bread, but sweet and crumbly."

"You're talking about cookies?"

"Yes! We have no such things in our lands. This should be remedied."

"… I guess it is the small things that cultures learn first. I miss the way Marcher brewers could get their ales, myself."

"It appears most of them are ready – shall we move on?"

Looking over his shoulder, Aedan nodded. "Let's go."

"As you wish" Sten replied, walking past the younger man.

'Wasn't it your idea? … Ah well, maybe he'll make further sense after I read these' he decided, sliding the books into his bed-roll as he tied it to his pack.

* * *

_Much thanks to Legionary Prime for the Favourite and review - Cailan wouldn't be Cailan if he didn't try, that dog... still deciding how it goes for him, though._


	15. Palaces and Prisons

**Just a quick catch-up, with other players in the story this time. Finally finished the Highever side-story (check my profile), stupid sexy Couslands needed the most changes in my little AU version, and took over my brain... had to force myself into reducing the last two of the 7 Origins to exposition dumps rather than the side-stories I was considering, or I'd never finish this. **

* * *

Staring icily at the young man kneeling before the throne, Anora finally snapped her fingers to signal him to stand. "I am growing quite weary of seeing you here; especially when you are not the one I called for. You had better bring satisfactory news, given that your handling of the murders at the Kendalls estate has only made things worse."

"Your Highness, I petitioned you for permission to replace the estate guards with my own. Their loyalties led to reprisals upon the Alienage when Vaughan died from his wounds."

"Mind yourself, Howe. I did instruct you to confine the Arl's men to inside duties, because you arrived with only half a contingent. Since you are here today, shall I assume your father has still not arrived?" Nodding to Erlina, she took a sip from the offered tea-cup before placing it beside her.

"His latest message was quite apologetic for the delay; the weather in the north is still disturbing."

"As are the rumours coming down… for his sake, he had better have an explanation when he does arrive."

Sweating, Thomas adjusted his collar. "I've not had time to follow gossip, my Queen. I can only pray things are not as distressing as the initial reports."

Standing, she gave him a cold glare. "You somehow missed the latest? They speak of the Cousland castle being massacred in the dead of night, down to the servants. They also say the Highever people are rising up and forming a militia to march on Amaranthine. I have already twice met with the Antivan ambassadors, _all of them_, and they are demanding answers. You're no doubt aware of just how influential the family of Fergus' wife are, in her homeland… and you should also know – they will only send one demand to your family. Should that disappoint them, there's every chance they will send for the Crows to dole out their response."

Choking for air, Thomas nodded mutely. He was well aware of the rumour that the Crows already had a chapter hidden in Denerim. "I shall send another rider today, Majesty. Hopefully, my father shall be able to answer in due haste."

"Indeed, you had better hope he does. The fuse of my patience is burning fast" she commented, waving him to the door. Returning to the throne, she sat with a groan. "Your orders, Majesty?"

"Continue the watch on him; I want to know everything he does. Have missives written up, of the latest accounts of the Highever situation – send them to the King, and my father. If they are finished in the Wilds by the time word reaches them, they shall want to ride north."

With the servants dismissed to their duties, she turned to Erlina. "What have your contacts turned up?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. Due to the weather, only a few ships have sailed the north coast. I confirmed one thing myself, with a Rivanni captain. She is quite certain about two passengers she had on-board, from the Free Marches" the Elf paused, as Anora lifted the teacup again. "One of them was the younger of the Teyrn's sons, finally returning home."

"Little Aedan? I can hardly imagine Eleanor allowing him to volunteer… they would both be dead, if it's true…" Rising from the throne, she paced briefly before stopping herself. 'She always had advice, or just a kind ear… and that boy somehow became a favourite subject for idle court rumours, sight unseen, amongst bannorn daughters the last few years'

"If you can arrange it, I should wish to speak with this captain myself. Later tonight, when there will be no court interruptions."

"That would be best" Erlina replied, "she was quite _unorthodox_, by most standards."

Nodding with a faint grin, Anora returned to her seat. 'What a calamity… Howe obviously planned to somehow escape this, while Father was watching over Cailan's games. Meanwhile, his son is all but hanging their banner over Urien's estate already… To think, I was only worried about Cailan returning home with that half-brother, announcing him openly. Never mind those ridiculous conspiracies Father was dreaming up. Ridiculous… they must be.'

Trying to ignore her worries, she drained the tea and looked up as one of the side doors opened. Trying to remain hidden, a rider slipped inside and made for the hallway. Motioning for one of the guardsmen to bring the man back, she sat in worried confusion.

Erlina returned first, offering another tea which reeked of one of the servant's herbal mixtures. "Please, drink this" the Elf said, before retreating. Taking two quick gulps, Anora waited in growing panic as the messenger was dragged forward. "My apologies, your Majesty. I was instructed to bring word to your assistant first" he stammered, looking at Erlina as she slunk into a corner. Handing over the scroll, he almost tripped before quickly leaving the throne-room.

Suddenly next to her again, Erlina caught the Queen before she could collapse forward from her seat. Struggling not to fall apart, she took another look at the message before throwing it away. It fell near the feet of the senior guardsman, who quickly scrunched it up and stepped forward. "Your Highness?"

Wiping her face, she remained unresponsive. "Burn it, if you please" she replied, before finally finding her feet again. Saluting, the guard marched over to the kitchens and commandeered one of the wood stoves. Waiting for a servant to stoke the flame, he quickly took a glance. 'The King is dead… and all the Wardens have fallen as well.' Crushing the paper again in shock, he mutely hurled it into the fire and watched it ignite. Saying nothing to the confused kitchen-crew, he left quickly and found Erlina outside the door. Watching him with a masked expression, she waited for his nod of agreement before letting him pass. 'We're confined to quarters, until further notice… if it spreads without approval, that rider and those on throne duty today will find ourselves in Drakon.' he quickly decided, weighing up the best containment. Noticing the Queen had withdrawn from the room, he motioned the other guards over for their warning.

* * *

Checking the cell-door hatch, Cullen found the food barely touched again. "Are you still refusing to eat, Amell?" he sighed, closing the serving door after taking the bowl.

Sitting on the floor, wedged between two walls in a corner, Solona shook her head. "I'm not exactly hungry… must be the view. Or the rats. Or the scowling Templars. I'm sure I'll eat on clockwork, if they ever get it over with and just bring the Brand down here."

"I hardly think you need to be so pessimistic. Irving's been adamant about how you were only involved at all on his orders."

"Yet here I sit, waiting for Gregoir to tighten his fist. All because that idiot lied to me… any word if they caught him?"

"I'm afraid I haven't heard anything yet" Cullen replied. "I can't even understand why he was so sloppy – he didn't even try to mask the fact he was up to something."

"He was already jittery, he said it was because of Lily… or so he told me. I let him fool me into thinking that, and then Irving fooled me even further until I helped bait the trap. Typically, Jowan was paranoid about the wrong person."

"Someone else was caught up in this? I just get more confused."

"Join the club… he was so sure that wandering Dwarf student we suddenly got, you must have noticed her around, had been sent to spy on him. For that to make any sense, he must have thought they'd send in some bizarre Bard specialist, rather than realise she was just excited to be here. "

"He thought _Dagna_ was meant to be a covert operative? What, were all her endless questions to everyone meant to be some kind of triple-bluff?"

"He must have deluded himself into thinking he'd be an important capture… even more deluded than I was, I guess."

"You? How were you delusional?"

Sighing, she shrugged. "When he dragged me along to start planning… well, let's just say I was hoping I'd be the girl he wanted to talk about. Instead, it was her."

"Oh… you and him?"

"Would have proven to be a real prize, right? He just seemed to be the only person who would even talk to me… turned out, all that was for his own interests. Now it's just me and my Templar buddy – isn't that weird?"

"I'm not that weird" he replied back, shuffling in his armour.

"I didn't mean you are… it's just – do the two sides ever really get along? Do we get to have discussions beyond 'Good morning, I was going to kill you at your Harrowing. I'd invite you to the Templar picnic, but its outside.'"

"Doesn't mean we can't talk about other things. I'm willing to listen."

"Cullen… why are you here?"

"It's my rounds, today. That's all" he said, not adding that he'd swapped shifts.

"No, I mean in general. You don't seem like the other Templars. What made you enlist?"

"Oh… I'm told I was an orphan, taken in by the Chantry. Most people in that situation become enlisted, if only because we aren't sure what else to do."

"I'm sorry to ask, then."

"No, don't worry about it. Do you remember your family?"

"Vaguely… my mother abandoned me at a young age; apparently we were a big deal in the Marches. I got sent all the way down here, trying to hide their dirty little secret. I hope they lost favour, since their social niceties were more important than me… let's talk about something else. Weather? Gossip?"

"Wet and windy… gossip? Oh! The people who went to Ostagar returned this morning. We're to regroup and refresh, before seeing if new orders come in… they're saying the King is dead."

"Dead? … Has everyone we sent made it back?"

"I'm told they're still counting the casualties, so I'm afraid I don't know. I think all the Senior Enchanters are back… Uldred wants to call a meeting, this afternoon. He seemed pretty insistent, but the others, like Wynne, needed some rest first. Irving will no doubt use the same meeting to discuss your case, too. Then you'll be able to get back to your room."

"Only if they agree with him… or Gregoir doesn't just overturn it."

"He'll get you out of this… he has to, since he got you into it."

Giving a smile at his enthusiasm, she finally stood up. "At least I've got your vote… let's hope Uldred's little meeting is productive, then."

* * *

"My lord, is everything alright?"

"I'm just tired, after everything this week… what do you need?"

"We need you to sign off on these proposals before they go before the Assembly."

Nodding, the Dwarven noble gave them a quick glance. 'More mining rights… another petition to find the Paragon's expedition, from her husband.' Signing them all, he handed them back. "He's stll having no luck?" he said, pointing to the top one.

"It has been two years, Prince Aeducan. Most of the Assembly feel it would be a hollow gesture."

"Perhaps… how is my hollow gesture, then?" he asked bitterly.

Paling, the various assistants looked at the Prince. "I spoke without thinking, my lord. A team should return today, they have almost finished excavating the ruins."

"Let me know when there's any word" the Prince said, letting them all exit the room. Pouring a large glass of ale, he sat down and let his memory wander back to the expedition.

_The expedition had reached the half-way point, and was preparing to split up when I spoke to our Father. Sereda's Proving had turned out to be an embarrassing farce, before the Ancestors, when that low-life thief was revealed as her supposed Champion. Perhaps I was arrogant, but I said my presence on her mission would help remove some of her shame… all I really wanted was to lord my authority over her, since she was somehow becoming a favourite of the Deshyrs. I thought it important to shut that down before it began. I had already spoken at length to many of them, quickly being joined by old Harrowmont in citing the disgrace in the Arena as a sign she was not meant for a position of leadership._

_We reached the area, as expected. Two arguing bands of casteless thugs were waiting for us, and pounced… only a handful of people knew her goal, and only one could have given them an Aeducan seal to open the ancient door. He'd played us both… and himself._

_While our small group were locked in combat, Father's group were carrying out their tasks. They returned to the meeting spot, and waited. We were growing weary, but holding off their onslaught. Sereda was forcing a healing concoction upon her second… Gorim. I was aware of their connection, I suspect most of us were. We had taken up a defensive position against the cave wall, early in the battle and the bandits managed to prime the ballista weaponry, and fired. It led to a cave-in… she shoved him, still recovering, and myself out of the way before she was buried underneath the collapse. _

_We finally had some luck, since that opened up a tunnel which allowed Father's men to race to investigate. They arrived just as Ivo had fallen… they must have been aware of his reputation in the Arena, as they focused on him. With the last of them slain by the new arrivals, we returned… to find Father wounded on the ground, with an assassin and Bhelen both dead. He'd arranged one trap for each of us… not knowing how circumstances and my arrogance led to my being with Sereda. Since the initial plan would have seen me waiting there until the other two groups returned, I expect the man hired was simply told to attack someone at the meeting spot who had armour matching a vague description of the Aeducan style. In between consciousness, Father said Bhelen tried to help fight the opponent off… whatever his machinations, he did not intend for Father to be caught up in them._

_So here I sit, having become the one Aeducan with a chance of succession. All of my dreams made it seem much more important than it is. My bitter, jealous dreams all came true._

Staring at the empty bottle, Trian growled before throwing it against the wall. Hearing someone gasp, he turned back to the doorway. A servant stood, cautiously watching him.

"Enter" he coughed out, seeking another bottle. "I thought we were all done for the day. More petitions?"

"I'm afraid I was selected for two urgent messages, Sire."

"I'm not a Sire yet, my friend… what is it?"

"There is a young… woman, asking to speak with you. We believe she was a Noble-Hunter, known to your brother… she claims to have something to ask you."

'That girl I've seen in the hallway a few times, I expect.' "Is she claiming a child?"

"Most likely, Sire. She wishes to only speak with you… she actually seems nervous about it."

"Hrmm… I'm not up to playing a fair judge to any possible offspring of Bhelen. Get her name, so I can summon her at a later time, and send her away."

"Very well, Prince Aeducan" answered a guard he hadn't noticed in the doorway. Sitting down, he waited for the attendant to speak. "Well?"

"I already checked, Sire. She said her name is Rica Brosca, of Dust Town."

"What is the other thing you mentioned" Trian sighed, watching the girl being escorted out.

"Ah, yes… as you may know, the Assembly have concerns about the King's lack of recovery. They're already talking about appointing a successor."

"I thought they would… the sooner they know whose favour to seek, the better, no doubt."

"Well…. Lord Harrowmont has begun denouncing you, and it seems he is seeking their vote as the new King."

Trian collapsed back into his father's throne, crying out. "Just go… I've heard enough for today."

* * *

_A much quicker turn-around for this chapter, and a hearty hello to mememoll for the latest Following._


	16. Sounding out

_Split chapters for now, to follow the groups. When something big happens, they'll get their own. Just playing with the characters for now. __**Refresher disclaimer: I'm just playing with BioWare's toys, they own the shebang.**_

* * *

Having endured enough of the midday sun, the small group finally retreated to a shady area under some trees. Loosening his armour straps, Brosca sat and stared at the road. 'I wonder if Anders' robes are a bonus or a problem in this heat… I actually miss the rain. At least Farmboy will have no trouble snatching his sister back, if the Mage-Hunter topples over in all of his metal.' Hearing Sten's voice, he crawled further into the tree-line. 'Sounds like he found something else he doesn't like… we all know the surface is crazy, but we don't go on about it.'

"I don't understand… you look like a woman."

Returning his stare, Aveline shrugged. "You're very perceptive; no wonder they sent you as a scout."

"Then you understand my confusion?"

"I'm confused as well, now, if that's what you mean."

"Women are priests, artisans, shopkeepers or farmers. They don't fight."

"You haven't known many women, have you? We can do what we want" she snorted in response. "When we reach the next time, ask about Queen Rowan. Or Moira, the Rebel Queen. You'll find plenty of examples, if you bother listening."

"Why would these women wish to be men? That makes no sense."

"Why lower ourselves like that? We're women, who decided to fight."

"Did they also decide to live on the Moon? That's just as attainable."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. I chose to fight, it's that simple."

"Is it? We shall see."

"If we come across some bandits, I'll be sure to give a demonstration."

"Perhaps I shall leave one for you then, if I can."

Giving up, she walked away to look for any nearby water. Having watched their argument, Varric smirked. "That could have gone better – do you need some pointers on small talk? It might help you understand the locals better."

"You mean that I should remark upon the weather, before I cut off a man's head?"

"That would be a start… you know, you'd feel more at home in Kirkwall. They thrive on being brutally concise."

"If you're any indication, I am not convinced."

"She was right, before. This country seems to have a tradition of women who could pound you into the ground. Even Junior's mother, when we tried telling her to bolt the door… she just made a quick remark about 'battle maidens' and sliced up two swordsmen without blinking. They looked well-trained, too."

"And yet she is not here?"

"No… our luck didn't hold long enough to get anyone else out."

'Better get these topics over with.' Standing up, Brosca whistled and called out "Five more minutes, and let's get moving."

Nodding, Sten stopped and looked back at Varric. "He told me, you treat your weapon as a Qunari would. It is an extension of you."

Chuckling, he replied "Bianca's more like a companion, but I see what he means. I see that was your sword, we found up north?"

"Asala… I was uncertain about finding it again, much less with the aide of someone like him. He sounded like his animal was a similar boon."

"That poor dog… they were a lot closer to being part of each other – he didn't see it as a weapon, but it proved to be one during the attack."

"It did not survive, either?"

"We had almost made it to the escape tunnels, trying to find his father. The dog broke the arm of a crossbow archer, trying to bring him down, and we were finishing off the other two mercenaries. One of their Mages came around a corner, and when the hound charged her after she froze one of our soldiers, she lit it up in a fireball. Bianca put a bolt through her head, but in the distraction, the archer grabbed his weapon with his other hand and took out the Teyrna. Junior snapped, and dove on the man. He grabbed a knife from somewhere, and" Varric thumbed a motion across his throat. "He dropped into shock after that, didn't even notice his face was soaked by the blood spray. He just took the crossbow, over to where his dog was howling in pain… when that was done; he just walked off to the hatch as we followed."

"Things… did not go any better for the man you had been seeking?"

"He was alive, but they'd gotten to him first. They managed to say goodbye, and then I had to drag him through the tunnel. The remaining guards went to reinforce the main hall, but we could hear the gates getting smashed down, even down there. It sounded like the fighting had spread into the city too, as we were sneaking around the outskirts into the hills."

"You think they are all dead, then."

"We passed quite a few murdered servants; I doubt they had much care for who they attacked."

"Neither of you wished to fight with his others?"

"He almost ran off – when we went downstairs to see what was happening, we left a handful of people upstairs. We'd have never reached them and escaped, but his father made him promise to find the King and let everyone know what happened."

"He is no warrior either. He was right, to follow his duty as ordered."

"Doesn't stop it tearing at him… nobody ever said duty was easy."

"Agreed…" trailing off, Sten shouldered his load and began walking.

* * *

"Gulls?"

"We had plenty of them on the lake. I must have spent hours watching them, on the slower days. That's probably all the wildlife on the island, not counting the occasional spider in a corner. Or that old mouser, before it got possessed…. took 8 Templars to bring it down."

"I suppose a bird will be useful for travel, at least, and it's something you've actually seen" Morrigan sighed. "I still don't know why I ever agreed to try teaching you."

Neria smirked "Because it was his idea – both of you think you're being subtle, but it's pretty obvious. So the sooner it's done, the sooner you'll have impressed him."

"Oh please… if that were on my mind, I would not be playing coy. I am not some insecure maiden who needs to be wooed."

"So you keep saying… okay, Gull. Gull. Gully thoughts. Guuuuullllllll."

"Must you keep repeating that? If you wish to make a noisy spectacle, simply become a hen and let that mangy cur devour you. Hopefully it shall choke on a bone or two and cease bothering me."

"That's what you get for sneaking him food… if you're really so eager to be alone with our Warden, I can always take the hound off for a walk."

"Tis _not _what I meant… less talk and more feathers."

"Okay… but only because you were honest and didn't deny feeding the hound."

Ignoring the sneer, the Elven Mage became engulfed in a green haze briefly. It lifted, revealing a grey bird shaking its head in surprise.

"On only the fifth try… not bad indeed" Morrigan mused as it awkwardly stepped about the ground. Beginning a series of odd wing motions, it settled on one variation and hesitantly jumped into the air. Slamming back to the ground, it shook itself and looked up at Morrigan. Shrugging, the Witch smiled as it went back to waddling around. "Never bothered watching them take off, did you? I'll have to point that problem out, when she returns."

Sitting on a log, Theron finally looked up from carving out arrows. 'These should last long enough… I wonder if they've finished'. Walking over, he watched the small bird parade back and forward. Seeing Garahel lean forward to sniff the new creature, the bird retreated from the hound. It looked at a Circle outfit on the ground, to the Grey Warden, and then turned to Morrigan before squawking at her.

Nodding, she turned to Theron. "You may want to turn around, or go off for a brief errand." Confused, he went to leave before a round of angry noises sounded from the bird. He looked back to see Morrigan holding down Garahel, while trying to pry a set of robes from the animal's mouth. Suddenly realising the situation, he ordered his supposed pet to drop it. "Get over here, already" he added as it sheepishly slipped away from Morrigan.

Reaching the cleared ground, he began sorting through a pile of collected wood. 'Most of this should burn easily.' Hearing a faint crack of energy, he kept his back turned as he piled the better pieces into layers, stuffing dried leaves in between, while listening to the two Mages argue.

"It's hardly my fault you assumed I would turn around. Tis nothing I haven't seen every time I bathe, after all."

"That is _so_ not the point… forget it. Thanks for the lesson, anyway."

"Tis no burden upon me, since you learn quickly. Just pay more attention to their movements, if you wish to fly. I shall see about enchanting an outfit that will stay with you, as well."

* * *

"A vision, huh?"

Shrugging, Alistair continued "So she claims… she seems genuine about wanting to help, and Wardens do take what they can get. You mentioned studying in a Chantry, what do you make of it?"

Aedan shook his head. "They say The Maker completely withdrew from our world, so somehow I doubt He would return to hand out one vision… especially not to one lay-sister. Inspiring a general or two would be a smarter move. Of course, that's even if you expect any help from the kind of deity who allows young children to be murdered in their sleep."

"Someone in your town?" Alistair asked in apprehension.

"My nephew… when we went downstairs to see what was happening, we told his mother to bar their door and wait. Once down there, though, it became impossible to turn back for them… so I left the three of them behind. Whatever their fate was, it's on my head since I was left in charge. A mere 6 hours, and I ran away while the town burned."

"Who… you mentioned a third person?"

"I did – an Elven servant of one of our guests. She'd come upstairs to check on Landra, shortly before everything began, so Oriana took her in when she bolted up their room."

Kallian asked "That was who you asked about, back in Lothering? Amethyne?"

"Iona – Amethyne's her daughter. I couldn't sleep, between the weather and anxiety about being left as the stand-in Teyrn, so I heard her out in the rain when she knocked on the Lady's door. I brought her into the chamber hallway, and fetched a few towels so she could dry off. We got to talking, about her daughter. Loren's a minor member of the Bannorn, so Amethyne usually has to live with relatives back in the Denerim alienage… I didn't want to sound like you all know each other, but I was curious."

"It doesn't ring any bells, but most children are taught not to wander beyond their street's social circle. Odds are good that they lived in another section."

"Ah. It may be a hollow gesture, but when this is all done I'd like to see about leaving some money for the child. Or leave a fund for when she's older, I don't know… what were we talking about?"

Alistair pointed over to one of the tents. "The Sister, over there."

"The visionary… I'm going to be obvious, and say I don't trust her."

"At all?"

He shook his head again. "Have you heard much, about Bards?"

"I get the feeling you don't mean musicians" Kallian replied.

"Orlesian spies – they mostly stick to court in Val Royeaux, as pawns for the little games between nobles… there were a few here, during the Rebellion. Counter-agents, in the employ of Meghren I 'm told. She was certainly quick to join us, and by extension the King. For a Sister, she looks a little too skilled with those daggers."

"Or maybe you're paranoid" Kallian offered, "I think we can trust her."

"If I were paranoid, I'd think she was deployed to hunt _me_ down… I can still realise that's logistically impossible, so I'm not too far gone. Yet." Aedan commented, jokingly.

"I'm turning in, anyway. Try not to get too convinced of these things, yeah?" she asked, leaving the two young men by the fire.

"You really think she's a Bard?" Alistair asked, after a short silence.

"It's possible… you've noticed that some things don't add up about her?"

"Hmm – I'll weigh it up a bit more before any accusations. Hopefully it's not a problem… if she is, though, Cailan's an easy mark."

"Why do you say that?"

"There have been a few unfavourable rumours, the last year or so. Concerning his fidelity – and along comes some pretty little potential Bard. Fill in the blanks."

"Indeed… hopefully, you're not as easily swayed as he, then."

"I… You know, then?"

"I think it started occurring to me, back in Lothering. A couple of little things kept it stewing, Cailan must have realised, because he and Elric pulled me aside last night and told me the whole story. Or what they said was the whole story… there were a few time-line gaps."

"And it's not a problem, for you? Only a few people have known the truth, and they've always treated me differently after finding out."

"Doesn't bother me – as Nate Howe and I realised early on, nobles tend not to care about secondary sons too much… regardless of parentage. You were raised in Gwaren, I assume?"

"Redcliff, actually. Arl Eamon raised me, when he could."

"Eamon? Maric went to Rowan's brother? I… that just seems weird, even if she were dead by that point."

"He treated me fairly, for the most part. Until the Arlessa had enough of the rumours, saying I was Eamon's bastard. She eventually had me packed off to the Chantry, when they realised she was expecting."

"Man… that's pretty harsh, to treat a child like that."

"Perhaps… I'm sure things are much worse for most other orphans, though."

"True… don't worry; I'm not going to let it slip to anyone. Excepting you and Cailan, it's not anyone's business, anyway."


	17. Moans and Murmurs

_Two in a day, since I was slacking - blame BioWare for unlocking all those groovy promo items. My fact-checker Warden went for a tour to try out his new toys, and got lost. Shorter vignettes, but checking in on more players._

* * *

Noticing the sudden silence, Brosca abandoned trying to set up a tent and looked around the small clearing. Seeing Varric approach with a smirk, the Warden sighed. "What's happening this time?"

"Mumbles wanted to challenge you to a fight, to see if Grey Wardens are if they're as good as people say. Don't worry though; I talked him out of it."

"You mean Sten, I take it?"

"Mumbles is easier to remember, especially since he just loves talking."

"Right… you'll be renaming everyone, of course?"

"In time – still working on the others. How do you fancy 'Warden'?"

"Some creativity… aren't you supposed to be a writer?"

"Well, when you think of one, let me know."

"I'll get right on that… what did he have to say?"

"I asked what he did in that cage, to pass the time. He claimed that he played puzzle-master at the gates, handing out rewards to anyone who could answer a riddle. A shame he was joking, too – that had some potential." Looking up as clashing metal sounded from the base of the hill, Varric continued. "I also asked if he was still in fighting shape, after being locked up for so long. He said he'd be fine, and to watch him challenge you if I had doubts."

"Which you talked him out of, so what is... oh no."

"Yep – I pointed out how he should test our other companion, since he doubted her more. Marched right up to her and went 'Draw your weapon!' She barely paused to think about it, before suggesting they find some level ground to fight on. Care for a wager?" Brosca sighed, before enquiring "How much?" as they sat listening. "Should we go watch?"

"No, they'll probably finish right before we get there – then we'd just have to climb this slope again."

Stepping back through the tree-line, Aveline gave them a short nod. "He'll feel that last shield-bash in the morning, but he should be fine to travel. I expect he's getting his breath again, before coming back." Sitting by her pack, she began inspecting her shield for any new dents.

Turning to Brosca, the other Dwarf muttered "And the trend of her scaring the piss out of me continues…"

Nodding, Brosca kept an eye watching for Sten while he whispered back "Double or nothing, next time they go at it?"

'She wasn't kidding, then… I hope one of them is going to stay awake for early watch.'

* * *

Feeling satisfied with the campfire's fuel, Neria turned away and let her mana flow around the camp outskirts. Refreshing the various barriers she had deployed earlier, she went back to a log and sat again. 'Just like being back in the Tower, oddly enough… same old midnight chorus, echoing from the corners.'

Garahel approached slowly, before dropping near her feet and staring up at the Elf. "Their racket keeping you awake, too? I know they both grew up in the woods, or a swamp, but I'd hope they had some understanding of… that's a stupid train of thought, since they would have to care what people think, in the first place."

The hound simply answered her by placing its forepaws over its head, and whining in agreement.

* * *

"He didn't get too moody, last night?" Kallian asked, slipping next to the ex-Templar.

"Not really, no. We just talked about our childhoods."

Looking confused, she replied "That's all? Was that an awkward topic shift, or something, from Bards?"

"… Can I explain when we reach Redcliff? Hopefully it'll make sense."

Further puzzled, she nodded and dropped her pace as the others continued their stride. With the Elf blocking the path, Leliana put a hand on her shoulder while shuffling past. "Everything alright?"

"Fine, fine. Just trying to make sense of some of our group. Especially Aedan – for a noble's son, he's seemed unusually accepting towards Elves… and then last night, he had some suspicious words about Orlesians."

"His father was part of the Rebellion, no? Old resentments, no doubt… what exactly did he say?"

"Something about Royal spies and the odds of them being in Ferelden. I was drifting off, so I missed some of it."

"Bards?"

"That's the word… it all sounds ridiculous to me, but I know how deep prejudices go for people. I just thought he was better than that. Maybe he's just seeing shadows after everything that happened, what do you think?"

"I'll think on it a while, and let you know?"

"Very well… we better catch up with them. No patience at all, that lot."

Leliana laughed "Very true – it's not like Redcliff is going anywhere, if we're a little off-schedule."

* * *

Nervously walking through the city, Jowan looked around as he tried to match the buildings with the map he had been given. 'I'm here… just have to find where I'm actually going.' Keeping his head down as he passed the Chantry, he almost collided into a guard. "Apologies, Ser. It's my first time here and I'm not having much luck with these directions."

Taking a quick look, the guardsman nodded and waved over another of his squad. "Kylon, you know the streets better" he noted, handing over the paper. "What's the easiest way to the Arl's Estate?"

"It's not far off the service roads… my patrol is going that way later, if you need a guide?"

Jowan fought back his nerves and agreed. "That would be appreciated, thank you. I was sent by Teyrn Loghain, and it's my first journey so I need all the help I can find, honestly."

Kylon nodded, "It's a dead day, in this part of Denerim. Unless you're on Alienage watch… but the roads will take us the other way. We'll have you there in no time. I'm not sure the Arl's arrived yet, but I hear Loghain's already summoning the nobles, after he arrived late last night. Without the King, too, or so I heard from the Night-Watch."

Already bored of the discussion, having decided years ago that court-matters were an issue for their personal guards, the older guardsman absently waved them off with "I'll leave you to your business, then" and continued on his rostered patrol path.

* * *

"You're quite sure it was him?" Loghain repeated, glowering at the soldier before him.

"Absolutely, Your Grace – I've seen him a few times before. It was the Warden-Commander himself. He was in their compound, maybe a half-hour, before he left. Looked very flustered, carrying a vial-bag as he went."

"A week ago… he might have made it in time on horse-back, barring disruptions. Damned Wardens… carrying supplies. What did they forget, I wonder…"

Turning to his men, the Teyrn waved them inside. "Toss every desk and bookshelf; I want to know everything they were planning. Cauthrein?"

"Yes?"

"Have it brought to my chambers directly… I must speak with my daughter, before anything else."

Entering the main wing of the palace, he quickly arrived at the throne-room. Anora sprang from her seat as he approached. Slipping on a slight mask of composure, she gave a hug to her father before turning back to the rest of the room. Loghain scanned the others, quickly identifying Erlina standing amongst a group of servants… and Thomas Howe, sweating profusely as he met the Teyrn's stare.

"Begone then" the Queen barked, "and do _not _return without your father, or a solution to the mess you've created."

Erlina crossed the room, paying no heed to the retreating figure, brandishing another fragrant cup. "Please, Majesty, your nerves…"

"Oh, damn my nerves" she muttered, before gulping down the liquid in one swallow. "Those damned Howes…"

"I received your message about the north… no further word?"

"Nothing but his blathering uncertainties. The fool went and made the Alienage even more unstable, after what Vaughan did… between the Elven workers either detained or on a protest strike, and the Antivans declaring a full embargo blockade over Highever, I fear a monetary crisis on top of everything else."

Watching her drain another cup, Loghain lightly gripped his daughter's hand. "Anora, please… you will need time, before you can handle all of this yourself. Let me shoulder some of this, for you… at least let me handle those parasites amongst the Bannorn."

"I doubt they will listen… to anything less than a Regent."

He nodded gravely, "If that's what it will take – we need stability, for Ferelden's sake."

Letting him guide her back to the Throne, she motioned over one of the scribes. "Bring me the documentation we need for that. Erlina, have my room prepared… I have had enough, today."

Sitting back on the floor next to the throne, Loghain watched the servants scatter on their tasks. 'Forgive me, Maric… and hope they stay out of my way long enough to do what must be done.'

* * *

Pacing away his anger through a hallway, Thomas tracked down the guard he had been seeking. "Dispatch a messenger bird to my father's camp – with Loghain back, it will be safe to enter the city tomorrow."

"Right away, my lord. There's someone waiting to see you, in the antechamber."

Entering, he gave a forced smile to the woman as he took a bottle from the wine-rack. "Montsimmard?" he offered, pouring two glasses. She accepted silently, taking a slight sniff. "A very good year, this batch" she assessed, finally smiling. "I trust your father will be arriving soon, this city is not amusing enough for my time to be whittled away."

"Tomorrow, I expect. The Queen will soon be out of our way."

"Yes, my sources have told me as such, Master Howe" she replied, raising the glass up in a mocked toast gesture.

Lightly clinking her glass with his own, he smirked. "Well then, a toast to business, milady Marjolaine."

* * *

Rising over a hill, Anders saw he had finally caught up with the people he'd been following for two days. "How he got so far ahead in all that armour, I'll never know" he muttered, getting close enough to hear their argument.

"Set your damned tent elsewhere, or proceed on to the next town! I will not have you interfering in my duty."

"Shove your bloody duty!"

"Carver…"

"Beth, I didn't run for two days to have some prig shoo me off. I'm with you until it's done, and no jumped-up bastard in a skirt is going to tell me otherwise."

Seeing both of them tensing up to draw blades, Anders rushed down. "Easy, easy. Save your energy for the road ahead."

Staring at his staff, Wesley turned towards the new arrival. "Another one? Stay right there!"

Carver snorted "Look at the uniform, you moron. He's a Grey Warden!"

The Templar backed off slightly, before spinning back to face the younger Hawke. "Perhaps… as for you, I will not repeat my warning."

"You haven't been stationed here for long, have you?" Anders asked.

"I'm usually posted in West Hill, but I've been on a rotational group for the last few months."

"No wonder you don't recognise me… ever hear of Anders?"

Giving a deeper stare this time, Wesley became uncertain of whom to have his shield against. "You?"

"The one and only… don't worry, though. I've moved onward and upward. No longer of the Circle… so naturally, I'm on my way back there to see a man about some paperwork." Stepping between them, he added "Look, the roads aren't exactly safe these days. Both of you, just breathe and accept each other as an extra blade against bandits, for now." Looking at Wesley, he continued "I expect you didn't see much real duty up in West Hill, but you need to learn not every family is going to be pleased about seeing a member dragged away. Especially not when they're obviously twin siblings."

The Templar slowly nodded, lowering his hand. "My duty is still clear, and I will see it done."

Turning to Carver, Anders spoke up again. "As I said before, he's new to this. He doesn't understand yet why they aren't trusted… it's the older ones you have to watch, and the ones who clearly only signed up for the power-trip of being able to look down on someone who can summon energy at will." Ignoring Wesley's spluttered attempt at a rebuttal, he added "If he were one of those people, your sister here would be gagged, hog-tied and slung over his shoulder to make him look imposing."

Dropping his own pack in the clearing, he sat down. "If you two agree to play nice until we reach the lake, I'll take the first two shifts on watch-duty."

Their expressions not matching the suggestion, they still shook and moved to opposite sides of the campsite, leaving Bethany's tent an equal distance between them.

* * *

_Another welcome to another follower, kd2kds._


	18. Bard News

**Apologies for the title - I'm so sorry.**

* * *

'Finally, some familiar sights… there's that Tower jail of theirs. Another ten days or so, and we'll be closing on Orzammar.' "We're getting closer, everyone. We'll reach the inn by afternoon, thankfully." Nodding silently, Brosca's companions kept their eyes on the lake as the road winded around its edge. 'Don't everyone cheer at once… I wonder what their reaction will be, if we have to base ourselves in Dust Town while running down this treaty.'

"Far too inefficient" Sten muttered under his breath, glancing at the Circle Tower in the distance. Varric grunted in agreement "You said it… too bad Bodahn continued onto the capital, we could have just ridden in his cart."

"I mean that structure… hiding them so remotely, out of fear. How can these people expect to utilise their Saarebas successfully, with so much time lost to travel? Allowing all of them to remain unbound, together in one place, is even worse… with enough time spent amongst their small-scale society of familiarity; they will find themselves with no goal beyond rebellion, mistaking it for a purpose in life. Even a gathering of Arvaarad would suffer great loss before pacifying such a force."

"Things are better for them, in Seheron?"

"They would find a better understanding of their affliction, rather than building bonds that will only require severing when one of their group fails. It is no easy position, staring down their fate with only Arvaarad to guide them, but the Saarebas know the necessity behind it."

* * *

"I'm confused, do you support being a prisoner or not?"

"I've yet to hear a viable alternative, honestly" Surana sighed, handing a bowl over to Morrigan. "Sure, you've done fine with home-schooling, as it were, but there are countless others who didn't. Even your mother, seeing how she set flame to an entire city and dealt with demons, if the story's true. Running off to start our own society would just make another Tevinter… I've been listening to all the arguments, with the Fraternities trying to recruit me – none of them seem to have a long-term solution that could work."

"Fraternities? Why would they be recruiting a woman?"

She laughed, before shaking her head. "Maybe one day they'll change the name. They're groups of Mages, who like to get together and debate where we should be. Isolationists want to walk away and live on a distant island, or something equally unworkable. Then there are the ones who want self-administration, the moderates and so on. It doesn't sound like joining one gets us out of practise drills, so it would just be night-meetings to repeat the same thing over and over each time. What's the point?"

"Death by committee… they should just take action."

"It's been tried – it never ends well for anybody." Stirring her own bowl, she shrugged. "Smarter people than I have gone over this for years… I'm not aware there's an answer. Even Dalish Mages aren't infallible, right?"

Realising he had finally been dragged into the argument, Theron cursed inwardly. "They can be fooled by Demons, yes. The Clan has to hunt down their Keeper, in these situations… I remember being told more at least one Clan has collapsed and the members scattered to join others, because they couldn't face each other afterwards."

Surana nodded painfully. "Unfortunately, there can't really be one response when it comes down to everyone being different. Wynne used to say 'If you live apart from others, and your actions affect only you, then you may do as you wish'. Over and over again, to the more stubborn students, actually. She never got sick of that line… she's probably right, though."

Remaining silent, Morrigan slipped away from the fire to her own tent. Sighing as she entered, the Witch knew she'd be weighing up their discussion most of the night, even though she'd never admit to such.

* * *

"Are you going to tell the others?" Aedan asked, looking around the camp as they were slowly setting up their tents. Alistair frowned, and looked about as well.

"Most of you know… and I prefer not talking about it. Besides, aren't you still convinced that we can't trust the Sister?"

"I never said we can't… I just don't know if we should. Maybe I don't know anything."

"Admitting that is a good first step, I hear. Usually from people who were trying to train me, but that's beside the point" he grinned, handing over a peg-hammer. "As for Kallian, I'm not sure how she'd react to another noble. She gave me the short version… how do I bring it up, after that?"

"How about 'by the way, I'm Maric's son'?"

"I'll save that for a fall back… you seem to be the only one she trusts, no matter how hard Cailan tries to be charming."

"He's not, is he? Even though he knows what happened to her…"

"Hopefully not consciously, maybe he's just that way to every pretty little thing."

"So this is the way of the nobility, I guess." Shrugging, Aedan handed back the mallet. "What's your take, on it all?"

"I only know what I learnt from Eamon and Teagan, don't ask me. I guess I'm glad I had nothing to do with that world."

"True… I guess my father was right, leaving me at home. Even my unofficial uncle turned out to be a lying, self-serving, scummy sack of" a sharp whistle came from the centre of the clearing, cutting off his curse. "I guess she wants something" he muttered, as they all walked over to the waiting lay-sister.

"Please, I'd like all of you to hear me out" she began, watching their faces. "I know some of you have started putting it together, but there's something I need to let you all know. I was once a Bard, back in Orlais."

Elric's face grew dark, while Cailan just scratched his head. "So… that's how you looked so confident, leading us around that bandit camp and through their traps."

"Yes – I picked up a lot of my skills in that life… before I was betrayed by my master and left to be taken by the Orlesian authorities. When I escaped, and found myself in Lothering, I left all of it behind to serve the Chantry… but I will take it up again, if it will help you defeat the Blight. My vision was a sign, I'm sure of it."

Further aghast, the older man stared. "What vision? Alistair, surely you aren't buying into this?"

"Wardens take help where we can find it, and she seems sincere… we'll hit Redcliffe tomorrow, if you're worried about the King. The rest of us will move on – maybe to check out that fortress Dryden was talking about, and you can stay with the Arl."

Cailan stepped forward, nodding. "Perhaps that's for the best, then. Depending on what we hear from Eamon, I may need to return to Denerim sooner than I thought."

* * *

Marching past the nervous guards, Loghain entered the den. Seeing the smirking face as he talked to someone hidden by the door, the new Regent shot into the room and shoved Howe up against the wall. "You were to confirm, and contain Bryce if it turned out to be true. Not massacre the castle and set off a civil war!"

Stiffening under the angered hold, Howe nodded. "My hand was forced… it seems he suspected something, and even the servants were armed to fight back."

"You better have something more than that… I am not a fool."

Hearing the seated woman cough behind him, Loghain turned slowly. "I see the tales spun by old Chevaliers in the corners of Val Royeaux are true… Your Grace."

"I would hope so… and who would you be?"

"You may call me Marjolaine. It was I who stumbled onto the existence of the Cousland… correspondence. Those I work for feel the Empress has enough to deal with, without disgruntled nobles pushing her to resume claims on your country. She may not know it, but her reign grows tenuous, if she is seen to favour one faction over another. The push against re-unification… or invasion, if you prefer, is only growing, as the Wardens continue to speak of this coming Blight. Of course, they may just want to conserve our forces for military efforts _after_ the Horde is defeated. With the Game, who can tell?"

"Another Bard… and which part do you play, in your Game?"

"Whichever I'm paid to, and the Arl's offer is quite sufficient. I came to Denerim on the pretence of investigating a certain disturbance three years back, in this city."

"The break-in, at this very estate? I knew something else was going on…"

"Indeed – a former apprentice of mine took a bribe from a competitor, and created that mess. For appearances' sake, I shall have to hunt her down during my stay. With your leave, naturally."

"… Fine. I shall be watchful, however. Things are too chaotic, not to."

"Trouble with the Bannorn?" Howe asked. "I thought it best I not show myself, just yet. Your daughter's messages to my son seemed like she were on edge."

"Erlina's concoction should keep her _calm _enough, until I can do what's needed. I think most of them will fall in line… Teagan showed up in full armour. You believe that? Both of them, always pretending they were involved with the rest of their family in the rebellion – they sat around the Free Marches, like leeches…"

"Very few put in the effort we did, it seems. I'm sorry about things not going to plan, but together we can right Ferelden's course."

"We must… especially the strife in the Alienage."

"My son's efforts have failed, it appears. However, I may have a solution – a contact of Lady Marjolaine is on his way, to help settle the details."

"Just get it done… your plan for Eamon is in effect, too. It should never have come to this…"

"Dark times often require dark measures, I'm afraid. I pray that history will be on our side."

Nodding darkly, the Regent exited. 'Just remember, this is nothing you didn't have to do in the war…'


	19. Redcliffe Reunion

_Just a little contrivance, in the Redcliffe section that I was never able to dig out of my head-canon - and a tiny bit of 'borrowed' dialogue from The Stolen Throne. Apologies to Gaider._

* * *

Finally reaching the small shore community, Brosca groaned in relief and led his group to the Spoiled Princess. "You must be the other Warden, then?" the barkeep asked, when he finally looked up.

"You've been expecting me, I see."

"That blonde fella arrived earlier, and mentioned you'd be coming. Two of the Dwarven rooms have been prepared… he didn't say anything about that _friend _of yours. Will he settle for a normal room?"

"A double-bed is probably better, if available" Brosca replied, quickly looking around the room.

"Fair point" the man added, handing over two keys. "He and the lady Knight can take the rooms on the end, upstairs. It's been a while since that area was full up, before you Wardens came around with your followers. Usually, it's only your folk who pass through. Lyrium deliveries, you see. We scraped together some coin, and built some rooms into the hill so they would feel a little more at home. They're out behind the kitchen… Felsi, show these two to their rooms." Dropping her broom in annoyance, she nodded and led them through a side-door.

"The loud-mouth Warden was down by the lake, I believe. I'll get back to work before he forgets why I stopped" she muttered, before handing over a key to each of the Dwarves.

"I'll go see what Anders has done, to be the loud-mouth already. How about you?"

Varric grinned, replying "I'll go see how their ale tastes, and maybe become a loud-mouth of renown as well."

"Right… mind those sour-faced people skulking in the corner, they seem like they're just waiting for a throat to cut."

Stepping back inside, he made a quick glance at the mentioned group before he slid into a seat at Aveline's table. "He wasn't kidding, about those friendly faces." She gave a short nod, keeping her back turned to them. "They were sizing us up when we arrived… dressed for colder weather, too. They've come down from the Frostbacks, my guess… although they don't look like Avvars. Maybe they're exiles from some old mining community up in the mountains?"

"None of my worry, if they stick to their side of the room. Did your sparring partner come down?"

"He said his company were attacked near here, so I think he's gone looking for their last camp-site. The Warden?"

"Looking for Blondie, apparently he's down by the lake."

"Blondie?"

"You didn't meet the Mage Warden? The blonde one, who thinks he's funny… well, the _other _blonde one who thinks he's funny. I guess they picked them for a matching set."

"Well, that doesn't help narrow it down any. Counting the King, the gathering had four blondes who thought they were witty."

"Lord Punching Bag, the two Wardens..." Failing to remember another blonde amongst the Lothering group, he looked up at Aveline's satisfied smirk. "Who was… madam, you wound me. I'm well-known as a champion of wit, in Kirkwall."

"I'm not sure who appoints champions, over there, but I already question their sanity" she replied, finishing her drink.

"Most of us just stumble into the role by circumstance. The smart ones turn down the title and depart quietly."

"Sounds like an interesting city, then… to visit, that is."

"The local pickpockets like to brag they can operate easier in Hightown than the slums… nobody has the heart to tell them it's the same way in most cities, they just hide the fact better. Even Junior felt safer walking around Lowtown after his first week."

"So what am I?"

He looked back, confused. "Don't tell me that Mumbles has rattled your self-awareness?"

"Blondie, Junior… Mumbles. Where's my nick-name?"

"Don't you start… I'll think about it."

"I'm still waiting for mine, by the way" Brosca joked, pulling a chair over to the table. "Especially since he got one" he added, as Anders also joined them.

"I'm honoured, more so with the fact I beat the others." Motioning Felsi over, he gave his order. "A refill, for these two as well. I'll get this round."

Brosca looked up, slowly. "I'd prefer water, please?"

"Water's out, that other lot went through it earlier. We've some juice?"

He nodded, draining his flask after she left. "I guess we'll have to find a stream, before setting off tomorrow. That's the last of my water."

"Not drinking tonight?"

"No, I prefer not to" he replied, looking at the table.

Anders shrugged, turning to Aveline. "Before I forget, your husband's in Room 2 upstairs. Well, he rented Room 1, but I expect he's guarding his captive. The ferryman wasn't running today, for some reason, so he took two rooms and ordered the owner not to admit the brother tonight. He's camping by the bank, in his usual mood."

She nodded, her satisfied smile returning. "It looks like it'll rain tonight, too. What a shame…"

* * *

Staring out of her tent, Morrigan scowled at the weather. 'Enough of this downpour, already. I hope she's able to keep her barriers up, from her tent…' looking out, she noticed Neria sitting by the fire. 'The fool is going to catch something, sitting out there like that! Not even wearing a hood…'

Marching over, her rant died mid-sentence as Morrigan noticed the Elf remained dry. Turning, she smiled and a faint energy wave stretched to cover them both. "Just a low-level ward… it's easier to monitor my force-fields from outside."

"I use something similar, back home, to repel the various stinging pests. I'm a little embarrassed to not have considered this variation. Yet another thing you've shown me."

Noticing her squirm, Surana swallowed her initial response and motioned for her to sit down. "Is everything alright?"

"I… I'm not sure. So sure, I was, that you were just a mindless Circle pet, slipped from a leash… and you've made me uncertain."

"I'm sorry for that, then."

"No, I should be… I've never even wondered what someone like you might actually think of their situation. You're certainly more adaptive to the outer world than I've proven to be, there was so much Flemeth failed to teach me… so much I still do not understand."

"She's not one for sweating the small things, I'll say that much."

"Everything was for survival, she'd say while teaching me."

"Of course, life is more than just surviving."

"So it seems… and yet, you're far too competent to let yourself be chained to their teachings."

"Explain that, right? I guess how we grow up always becomes the natural way, and I'd miss a lot of the people I know if I took up a life on the run, or got a royal release like that Mage during the rebellion... Wilhelm. I don't know… think you could talk Flemeth into adopting me?"

They both laughed, briefly, before watching the rain intensify. "Perhaps not – the last time I brought something home from the outside world, she was furious. She smashed the mirror and gave me a stern rant instead… enough of this, I should let you return to your watch, lest the Darkspawn sneak up and slaughter us."

"Good point, I suppose. Morrigan?"

Looking back as she extended her own 'umbrella' shield, the Witch paused. "Yes?"

"Don't worry about the talk… what happens in the barrier, stays in the barrier."

She blinked, and gave a nervous smile before returning to her bed-roll. 'Again, she leaves me awake in thought… and his tent must reek of that mongrel, in this weather.'

* * *

"Coming inside?" Cailan asked, looking over his shoulder. Shuffling nervously, Alistair shook his head.

"I'm not sure the Arlessa would like that, especially since Eamon hasn't returned yet. I'll just take a walk around the grounds, and check where the others went… you may want to warn her I'm here, so she doesn't freak out in surprise."

The watching guard moved to one side as the doors swung open, allowing Isolde to exit the castle. "Cailan, how grand to see you again! The most disturbing rumours have been spreading about your death!" Offering a faint smile to Elric in lieu of remembering his name, she continued. "I'm afraid Eamon had departed with his forces before word arrived, hopefully he meets a messenger on the road." She turned to Alistair, who kept his face down. "Your bodyguard may come as well; let us retire to the dining hall."

"Bodyguard? Oh, right…" grinning at his half-brother, Cailan paused. "You can at least say hello, can't you?"

"Good morning, Lady Isolde" he got out, between sighs.

"… Alistair? What are…"

"He agreed to escort me here, before departing on Grey Warden business. He's the acting Warden-Commander, after all, so offering us his time is _quite_ the boon" Cailan replied, cutting her off with a wink to the younger man. "He shall have to speak with the Arl, to help co-ordinate strategy before he reconvenes with his officers and the Orlesian Wardens."

"That makes me sound more important than I probably am, Your Majesty. I shall check in with our contingent, and leave you to your business."

Quickly shooting a dagger-filled glare at the Warden, she nodded and led the other two men into the castle. 'That went well, all things considered' he thought, wandering toward a small grove outside the keep. 'I wonder if that climbing tree is still standing.'

Reaching the old tree, he found Kallian standing under it as she stared up. "It's got plenty of life left, I wouldn't worry about falling branches" he said, noticing her apprehensive face.

"I'm more concerned about him, actually. He's likely to break something" she commented, pointing up to where Aedan sat on a higher branch. "I'm not even sure how he got up there."

Laughing, he patted the trunk while looking down. "She won't let me fall, we're old friends. Isn't that right, Scout Tree? See, Scout Tree says yes!"

'Okay, _now _it's easy to believe he's eighteen' Tabris thought, forcing down a smile. "Aren't you meant to have some dignity? Somewhere?"

"Me? Dignity?"

"Being a supposed future Noble and such."

Puzzled, Alistair interrupted. "Wait, how do you know Scout Tree?"

Throwing her hands up, the Elf just groaned. "Yes, that's the important question!"

"Didn't I mention staying here, as a boy? I caught a fever before leaving, so I forget some of it… but because I was too young for riding or hunting, I teamed up with some of the servants' children and ran around while my family and the Arl were off somewhere for the day. Probably the best fun I ever had, back then."

Scratching his head, Alistair did some quick calculations. "Wait… about twelve years ago?"

"Something like that… just on the edge of winter beginning."

'I don't believe it…' "Don't tell me, _you're _Hayden?"

Staring down at Alistair for a moment, he dropped to a lower branch. "Hang on… Alex… did we both remember the names wrong?"

Shrugging, Alistair laughed. "So it would seem, if we're correct…"

"You're not kidding, are you?" Kallian asked in disbelief, as they both laughed again. Dumping most of his armour, Alistair quickly found the carved hand-holds and got himself to the thickest branch, slightly below Aedan. Sliding onto his stomach, Aedan reached down with one hand and they high-fived while she remained on the ground, shaking her head. "Should I laugh, or cry?"

Returning to a seated position, the Cousland male gave a rare genuine smile. "She sounds like Bann Teagan, when he had to talk us down."

"Totally… that girl who joined our group would have understood."

"Exactly! I've probably garbled her name in memory too. Lily, I think."

"I knew a Lily, in Chantry studies. One of the Initiates – she'd probably be a Sister by now, unless she did something really stupid. The instructors all gushed about her... I wouldn't think it's the same one, unless Isolde was shipping off all the local children."

"Wasn't our one assigned to Isolde's grand-mother? I vaguely recall some older Orlesian lady being here too, so I'm guessing she was a relative… pretty sure she had Lily attending to her."

"You'd remember better than me – I was just a stable-boy, so I didn't get to mingle… apart from the rainy days. She tried forcing us to dance, once, so she could put on a show. I'm quite graceful now, when I want to be, but I think our performance was a disaster."

"So I've got her to blame… I'm still hearing about the 'legend' of my dancing. Of course, now Varric knows so he'll spread it to Kirkwall too, if I ever end up back there."

Leaving them to their rambled reminiscing, Kallian turned to leave. 'Maybe they'll be over this, if I go wander around the town and come back.' Seeing Leliana wander up the path, she decided to wait.

"Oh, hello. Stretching your legs as well? I'm just looking for somewhere peaceful to think… it seems I said too much yesterday, you're the only one who hasn't vanished from me."

"The King's talking to the local nobles, I think… and then there's those two" she sighed, pointing as the two young men remained jabbering in the tree. "Seems our two pigeons knew each other, when they were smaller children."

"Typical boys, I guess they… wait." Looking around the tree-line, the Bard walked over to the base of the tree and examined the hand-holds. "A trained Watcher in light armour can see for miles, from the higher parts" she murmured, seemingly channelling an old conversation. "Is this the Scouting Tree? I think I was here once, with Lady Cecile…"

Landing into crouches as they hopped down, both men looked at each other. "Well, my oldest new friend, I guess 'Lily' was closer than 'Alex'."

"Your memory was closer still, minus the 'h' – my newest old friend. She looks the right age, now I think about it."

Looking at them in confusion, Leliana tilted her head while trying to think back. "If I'm not mistaken…"

'… They're doing this as a joke. The three of them cooked it up last night… not sure why, but they must have...' Frowning at them, Kallian leant against a tree as they began babbling in unison. '... Hurry up and laugh... now?'


	20. Circular Thinking

**Another dodgy chapter title... I must stop doing that. Someday.  
**

* * *

_The young man walked slowly across the path, occasionally looking over his shoulder at the path as it became harder to see._

'The mist this morning… I think that's a house ahead.'

_Feeling something quash his confusion, he reached the fence-line and followed the trail into the small dwelling._

"Cullen, you're back! You're always wandering these days."

"Do I? I don't even remember where I walked from."

"You walked from here, and did your usual loop down to the river… and I really wish you'd go see the Elder soon, your memory keeps failing you."

"What Elder?"

"The village Elder… sometimes, I'm worried you won't even remember me."

_Another faint charge fought against his mind, before it was replaced by images._

"I'm not… wait. Amell, from the Tower. Where am I?"

"It's Solona, remember? Nobody's called me Amell since before we married."

"We're… but, the Tower."

"Abolished after the Blight was defeated, remember? What's wrong with you?"

"But… my head is pounding. Perhaps some air will help."

_Feeling conflicting memories clash inside his skull, he collapsed onto a chair in the lawn. A soft hand placed itself on his shoulder._

"They say the Wardens found some artefact, chasing the Horde back into the far reaches of the Deep Roads. It made it impossible for Demons to breach the Fade, and there was no need for the Circles. Surely you remember?"

"I… I'm sure you're right, it just keeps slipping."

_Hearing Solona briefly snarl behind him, he looked to her face. Her rage quickly vanished, but he turned to where her gaze was held. An oddly familiar Dwarf was walking down the path._

"Oh, hello there! I was just seeing where this path led. Isn't it fascinating, how the fog keeps changing directions?"

"... Dagna? How… is this your village too?"

"I haven't seen any villages yet. I keep meaning to follow the main path, but all the off-shoots are just incredible! Don't you think so?"

"So you're just out, wandering?"

_Solona lent down to his ear, hissing._ "Ignore her, my dear. She always was a lunatic."

_Still gazing around in wonder, Dagna smiled._ "Some of the slopes are a little rough on my feet, but they can't have expected Dwarves when they shaped the Fade."

_The comment snapped Cullen out of his haze, and he finally noticed the green sky._ "This is the Fade… how can we be here?"

_Groaning, Amell tried to make him sit again._ "That artefact, remember? It housed a forgotten spirit once captured by the Tevinters at the height of the Imperium. It knew the secret paths between Thedas and this reality. To save the world from further attacks, it allowed us to re-create a Fade connection inside everyone. That made it impossible for possession in anyone."

"… Some mystery spirit showed up and offered to make everyone half-Fade Spirit to save the world? That sounds… a bit stupid."

_Snarling, Amell began changing form._ "You were eager enough to believe it before… surely you won't pick some simpering Dwarf over your precious Solona? Just walk back inside, and forget about this."

_Shaking his head clear, he felt the last of his true memories return. They had been in the dungeons, when the walls began shaking. Fearing the old masonry would collapse, he opened Solona's cell and they had rushed upstairs. Amongst the chaos, they found Niall rushing from the store-room with the Litany in his hand; they had been making their way to find Irving. Those in Niall's initial group had fallen or ran as more Abominations appeared. At some point, Dagna had begun following them with a full pouch. Showing no fear, the young Dwarf had kept them moving as she handed out potions and medicinal salves as they needed. _

"You're just a demon! No more of your tricks" Cullen yelled, striking out with a blade before it had time to react. Striking out a few more times to be sure, he stared as the purple creature fell to the ground and remained still.

"Amazing… the different types must have unique tactics" Dagna mused, poking at the Desire demon's body with her foot. "That one I met earlier seemed to know my father; it wanted to talk about him, for some reason."

"You got past another one? Where?" Cullen asked, staring at the odd dagger that had been in his hand. 'If I focus…' he wondered, trying to recall every inch of his usual armour and weaponry. Feeling the familiar weight form around him, he looked down at Dagna's astonished gaze.

"This place is WONDERFUL!" she gasped as a shield appeared in his hand. "How do you do that?"

"I just thought really hard about it" he shrugged, as a faint roar sounded from over the hill. "Tell me about this demon you encountered."

"It was an odd blobby thing, and its skin looked like the inside of a smelting furnace. It was getting angry when I said I wasn't mad at my father for trying to make me stay, so I slipped away into the fog and walked down here."

"A Rage demon… stay back" he muttered as it appeared at the top of the hill.

"**There you are! You have wasted enough of my time!**" the monstrosity screeched, racing towards them. Seeing Dagna's face scrunch up, the Templar rushed forward. 'She's frozen… better hope I can handle this quickly.'

The Demon roared again, this time in agony, as its momentum led it straight onto a large bear-trap that had appeared suddenly. As it forced itself free from the fading teeth, a length of chain wrapped around the Demon's arms and pinned them down. Quickly beheading the howling creature, Cullen turned back to the Dwarf. Finally taking a breath, she massaged her forehead. "That does take a lot of concentration, doesn't it? I couldn't think of any weapons, but I remembered some things I used to see amongst the shipments to the Surfacers."

"Very impressive" he replied, looking around the area.

"Really? Do you think so?"

"Of course I do. Now, stick close – we better find the others."

* * *

Finally reaching a new area, they followed the paths for some time before hearing voices.

"I'm quite sure they should be arriving soon, their battle finished some time ago" a booming voice spoke.

"I can sense them, over by the trees" another preened, as they rounded the bend.

Solona sat, waving as they reached the young Mage and her apparent companions. "We were wandering about, trying to find you when we met Valor again."

The Spirit nodded briefly, turning its attention back to weaponry racks.

Cullen looked around, before noticing the small rodent near her feet. "Is that…?"

"Yes, this is Mouse. Mouse, meet Cullen and Dagna."

"You're just wandering about with that… thing?"

"Relax, Templar. I already know this one is too smart for my methods… besides I take great _pride _in seeing how my one-time acquaintances fare later on. I have no memory of this Uldred; perhaps a less efficient Demon met him. Most disappointing, they let him slip through. I'd be only too proud to handle all the testing; I daresay I'm quite good at it."

Watching the small creature chatter, Dagna smiled. "I just need to see a Sloth demon, for the whole range."

"There was one, further along, last time I was here" Solona replied.

"Since you've apparently dealt with the local Rage and Desire variety, I expect that's where your last friend will be" Mouse offered. "Knowing that particular Demon, I doubt you'll need anything from Valor's armoury."

Turning back at being mentioned, the glowing Spirit sized up Cullen. "This one seems like he'll be fine enough, having procured his own equipment already."

"I didn't even notice that… well done" Solona said, flicking his shield.

About to add a comment, Mouse turned and looked at Dagna. "She did even better, given we don't see many of her people. You should be proud, trapping a Rage entity in full malice."

"I had to try twice, and I only slowed it down" she stammered.

Valor had walked over, and offered her a dagger. "It will not remain with you, when you leave, but I am also impressed. Little one, I'd like you to carry this until then."

Letting out a soft squeal, she nodded as her face grew red. Solona laughed, and pointed down one of the paths. "Come on, then. Let's go see what that lazy bear is up to."

* * *

"Yes? Oh… you again. Was bothering me the first time so interesting?" the lounging bear muttered, after being whacked awake with a staff.

"Hello to you too, sleepyhead. We just need to grab that Mage, over there, and we'll let you get back to it."

"…. Fine. I was trying to keep him distracted until I felt like eating him, but I'm not sure he has enough meat to be worth it, honestly. Unless you care for another game?"

"Do you really want to be bothered with that again?" Solona asked, as Cullen slung the unconscious Niall over his shoulder.

"I suppose not… be off with you, then. Do be so kind as not to bother me again" Sloth snorted, rolling back onto one side as the group began fading into white light. "So hectic, these days. If it weren't for the proximity cutting down on travel, I'd never have stayed so close to this Circle."

* * *

Having dispatched the Abomination that trapped them, the four sat around the scattered bookshelves in exhaustion. Rubbing some feeling back into his legs, Niall watched the others. "Sorry you all had to find me last, I'm not even sure how they both got me."

Examining his real sword, Cullen remained silent. 'They got all of us… well; Amell and Dagna had no trouble with the second round. I can't even remember meeting my Demon, and it got me so easily…'

Dagna patted Niall's shoulder in reassurance. "You did manage to get the last blow, to free us."

"Thanks to your dagger… did a Valor Spirit really conjure that just for you?"

Nodding in embarrassment, she spun her gaze to the library door. The others rose up as the heavy doors swung open, revealing a second group. Both sides adopted fighting positions, before Solona recognised two of them. Stepping forward, she lowered her staff as their Mages walked out to meet her, with Niall quickly joining them.

The two Templars shared a quick handshake, remaining alert. "Ser… Vallen, was it?"

"Ser Cullen – I haven't seen you since Training. What's the situation?"

"We're proceeding on to ascertain… it doesn't look good, but hopefully this Litany will help us."

"Yes, Wynne there mentioned that when we ran into… Owain, I believe. I arrived with an Apostate in tow…"

Cullen looked over at the four Mages, before interrupting. "Anders? I heard we made him the Wardens' problem."

"A young woman, from the south. He's here, on some Warden business apparently, and when he told Gregoir he was coming in to see what could be done I decided to follow… I must be mad. We ran into Enchanter Wynne downstairs, behind her own barricade. She rounded up most of the children, thankfully."

"Back already, Anders? Never could stay outside very long" Solona joked, punching his arm.

"Had to come back, to see about Warden business… when I found out, I couldn't just do nothing while they sent for the Rite of Annulment."

"Oh… we must have been trapped longer than I thought. Is there any way to stop them?"

Wynne nodded softly. "He'll only agree to that if we can bring Irving down, unharmed."

Snapping her jaw firmly, Amell nodded over at Cullen. "Well then, let's find Uldred and finish this."

As the others nodded in agreement and looked to the stairs, Anders added "The sooner it's done, the sooner we can go home."

With most of them ignoring the comment, he looked over at the confused Dwarf as she adjusted her carry-bag. "Aren't most of you already home?"

"Don't worry about it… and be ready to run, if things are bad."

* * *

Hearing a loud pounding on the main doors, the assorted Templars braced themselves. After a tense moment, another rap sounded.

"Knight-Commander? Irving's a bit weak to yell through solid metal, is there a peep-hole you can use?" someone called out from the other side.

"Who's the next Enchanter, in the chain of seniority?" Gregoir replied, as one of the Templars approached with a key.

"Just open the doors, please. We can posture at each other afterwards" came Wynne's tired voice. Gregoir looked down at the younger man, fidgeting to open a barely-used hatch in the door. "Sir, we should add 'oiling this' to the maintenance rotation" he grunted, finally prising it loose.

Gregoir nodded absently, peering through. 'Irving, Wynne… Leorah, at the back.' "Open the doors" he barked to two others, stepping back to allow them access.

The small group of Mages stepped into the entry hall nervously, most keeping a child or two close to them. Cullen and Wesley brought up the rear, both saluting to the Knight-Commander as he approached. "Cullen… I hoped you'd be safe in the dungeons."

"That might have been smarter, but we couldn't just do nothing" he offered meekly, nodding over at Solona's back as she reassured the children. As Wesley helped slide down the load he had on one shoulder, Cullen continued. "Amell and Niall both showed great courage, helping me… unfortunately, he didn't survive against Uldred" he said softly, as they placed Niall's body against the wall just beyond the door. "I couldn't leave him up there, with those Maleficar. He deserves better than that."

"I see – and Amell proved herself, against the others?"

"Absolutely" Cullen replied, as Wesley nodded in agreement.

"Without her diving to retrieve the Litany, we'd all have been lost after they struck down this one when he first used it" he offered. "Niall" he repeated, to remind himself of the name. "She took it up and turned the situation again."

"I'll have her permitted back into general quarters… once we clear out the rooms." Gregoir turned and motioned to the other Templars. "Well, are you expecting these two to do everything? Get in there!"

With most of them gone, he nodded to the two weary men. "Return to your quarters, and rest up. There's a lot of work before us still." Letting them go, he walked over to speak with the First Enchanter.

* * *

Watching the handful of Templars still in the room, Solona and Wynne stood to one side. "Before I collapse, I should tell you how proud I am of what you've done."

"Thank you, Wynne. Most of it was Niall…"

"That's not what he told me, before we stormed the Harrowing Chamber. You both proved yourselves, this day."

"What happens now?"

"First things first, I expect we'll have to relocate to the Tranquil quarters until our rooms are cleaned and repaired." They both looked over at a nervous girl, who remained chained to a pillar. Wynne frowned, and marched over to Gregoir and Irving. "Apologies, but I wanted to check on that young woman there."

Gregoir looked over, before nodding. "The one Wesley bought with him… I would have forgotten, after all of this. I think we'll have to keep her with the Apprentices, until it's safe to perform a Harrowing."

Unlocking her shackles himself, Gregoir turned back to hear Wynne and Irving discuss her leaving to assist Anders in his task. 'Hopefully she can keep him on target' he mused, before telling Solona to show the new arrival to the Apprentice wing.

"I'm afraid you'll be bunking with the kids for the time being – most of the rooms have been trashed" she said, as the two brunettes walked.

"That doesn't sound too bad… I usually had to share a room, growing up. With my twin brother… until he nailed my hair to the frame. He had to share with our older brother, after that."

"Lovely… I hope he won't be joining us."

"No, I'm the only Hawke Mage since our father died. Well, there's a cousin who went to the Circle somewhere, I'm told, but I've never met anyone from that side of the family."

"Hawke, huh? Sounds a lot better than Amell" Solona chuckled, before noticing the younger woman staring at her.

"…. Did you say Amell?"

* * *

_So I've learnt the Circle takes forever, in-game and out... between the length, and trying to avoid re-telling the scenes we all know from the game, I skipped the fights. Apologies if it's a cop-out, but I might do that up to the Battle of Denerim. We'll see. _

_Belated Happy Holidays and all that, too._


	21. Calm before the storms

_Back to the main-story: and a Hello to Melysande. Hopefully I'm improving enough to warrant the follows, I appreciate them. Quick question, though - are the scene-swaps apparent enough with the line-breaks, or should I add something to make it clearer? PM an answer if you have a thought, a review to answer that might be overkill._

* * *

'Where, exactly, do you think he's going to store that? There's proving a point… and there's refusing to let something go' Brosca thought, watching his group as they finished going over Tegrin's stock. "So – you were saying Orzammar's shut the gates?"

"I only know what I hear from the other merchants… the Diamond Quarter's stuck in succession debates, after Endrin's death."

"Naturally, they're the only ones who didn't see it coming… just the usual moaning, then." 'I wonder who's more likely – that fool Trian, or his sister. I bet Beraht's making a killing, off the chaos.'

Handing over the coin, he walked over to Varric. "I hope they've got their argument sorted…"

"For the time being – he accepted the painting, and gave the brushwork a quick appraisal before somehow wedging it into his pack. I think he managed to tick her off more by not reacting to her spiel about whoever this 'Moira' woman is, in the painting."

"It figures – if only we could have left one at the Lake and brought… what's his name… Carver, with us. If I have to listen to those two until we reach Orzammar, I'll likely scream."

"You think he'd be much better, once we get underground? Seems like he'd be a moaner as well, from what I saw."

"Hmm – that's even assuming they let me in… hopefully they don't argue with Warden business."

"I can probably bluff my way inside, on behalf of the Merchant's Guild. Not sure if we can pass those two off as apprentices, though."

"Who knows… let's just get there, first" Brosca muttered, noticing Sten and Aveline had paused further up the road as they waited for the two Dwarves. 'Yeah, yeah – your sodding legs are longer, we get it! We'll get there soon enough.'

* * *

"Finally made it" Theron mumbled, as they passed the tree line and entered the Brecilian Forest. 'The big question – would I rather come across Marethari, or take my chances with another Keeper? One who's not going to abandon us the second something gets rough…'

"Everything alright?" Neria asked, watching his expression rise and fall.

"Just wondering about which Clans are in the area… and which would be the most reasonable."

"Mother claimed she had met with the Sabrae, advising they move onto the North. They're most likely gone by now" Morrigan offered, as she kept an eye on the overgrowth beyond the path.

"That solves one problem, and then… we just have to find a Keeper who's willing to protect their Clan."

"These Sabrae… I take it they weren't?" Neria asked, not noticing the warning look offered by the other Mage.

'Things got rough, so she gave up on both of us… given that he never turned up, now I'm wondering if that Duncan didn't turn and run with them.' "My former Clan… Marethari handed me over to the Wardens without a second thought – 'Ferelden needs you… but it's fine for the rest of us to abandon the country. No need for us to die with you!'" Snapping his gaze back to a locked position on the trail, he quickened his pace. "So that's a 'no'. I'd welcome any other Keeper than her."

* * *

"So… I take it she wasn't very welcoming?" Aedan asked, as he and Alistair entered the small room.

"Isolde? About how I thought she'd be, honestly. I'm pretty sure this 'guest room' is one for the servants of actual guests… I'm surprised you weren't offered a better one."

"I told Cailan not to mention who I am… not with all the rumours about the North. I want to be sure I can trust the Arl, first" he replied, dropping his pack onto the bed on the right-hand side of the room. "So long as you don't snore, I'm fine in here."

Reaching down for the book that had slipped out, Alistair spun through a few pages. "What's this?"

"Sten wanted me to take it – it's a book of Qunari philosophy, I think. We didn't have the light to read, most nights, so I've only skimmed one chapter."

"Weren't you studying, in the Kirkwall Chantry?"

"Yeah… I'm starting to wonder if that wasn't out of convenience. After being practically dragged out of the Lothering hall, I'm willing to see what someone else has to say about the world. That doesn't bother you? Being a Templar…"

"No, I didn't have a choice when I went to the Chantry… but guidance, from him? Knowing what he did?"

"We talked about it… it wasn't malice, and he sounded regretful. I don't know if it'll pan out as an answer, but I'll see if it can help. I feel like I need something to believe in, and I don't know if I can just keep clinging to the Maker out of habit… His own devotees admit He gave up on us long ago, that's hardly encouraging."

They both turned to the door as a soft knock came. Alistair opened it, to reveal Maraigne and Kallian waiting. "They've received word that Eamon will be returning this afternoon, and Cailan decided to side-step the Arlessa and make sure you join their meal tonight. She can't turn down his retinue, after all. Thankfully, the Orlesian girl had already decided to wander the town and dine at the tavern instead."

"Oh, she'll just love this…" Alistair groaned to himself, while Aedan simply shrugged.

"We can hardly turn down an invitation from the King."

Elric nodded, "He also wanted to double-check where you should be seated – are you feeling up to facing certain topics, or shall we continue to mask you as an attendant?"

"If they ask, let's just say I'm a mercantile representive from Kirkwall, since I can still mimic the accent. If he agrees, that is?"

"I think that will be fine – you'll know when he introduces you."

They all nodded, as he withdrew. "Miss Tabris, perhaps we should introduce you as his hireling, while he's 'visiting' Ferelden."

"I can handle that, for a meal. If I'm playing someone else, call me … Adaia."

"What did I say, last time? …Serah Doulaine. I'll stick with that."

"I'll let him know. I expect there are still a few hours, so feel free to wash up and relax."

As he left, Aedan pulled out a change of clothes. "I'm not sure how long these were in the merchant's wagon, I better find someone to give them a quick once-over."

Kallian took them from his hand. "I'm heading that way, to have some water sent up for a bath. I can handle that, and have them run tubs for you as well. Since your little social club are probably stained with leaves."

"That's probably a good idea – you don't mind?"

"No, it's an excuse to wander about and see how they treat their Elven workers. I need to know how quietly indignant to sound tonight."

Giving faint grins, both men nodded. "I can't argue with that, even if I felt like it" Alistair answered, as she turned. "I'm two doors downs and opposite, so I'll let you know what I find" she said, before following the hallway towards the servant's section.

"Well then, we get the honour of listening to the latest Nobility gossip" Aedan shrugged, shaking off his boots as Alistair pushed the door shut.

* * *

Glowering at the young heir, Loghain moved to one side as the procession passed him. "You're certain of this?"

"Yes, Your Grace. He was hooded, most of the time before he waved me over. I expect I'm the only one who saw him. It was the King, in the flesh. He and the man, Maraigne, who you wanted my group to track down, they both left. I believe they were bound for Redcliffe."

Cursing, Loghain eyed the refugees. "How did you come by this key?"

"I'm told there was a younger man, with them. Claimed to be Teyrn Cousland's son – before the villagers took to the road, he gave his key to two of them and told them to use this Estate."

"Which two?" Loghain demanded.

Studying the group, he shrugged. "I don't see them. They must already be inside."

'Easy… you already knew you'd need to get the boy out of sight. He knows too much already, about trying to find Elric and his possible documents.' Giving a curt nod, Loghain watched his guards chain the gates behind the last arrival. "Due to Lothering's proximity to the Horde, I'm having them quarantined for now." 'And also to squash this garbage about Cailan living.'

"Of course, Your Grace. What should I do now?"

Gritting his teeth, the Regent turned back to the other man. "You've mentioned this to nobody else?"

"Not one, Your Grace. I knew how sensitive the information could be."

"Very well… it's getting late, would you like to join me? I'm dining with the Arl of Denerim tonight."

"Very gracious… I accept. Your Grace."

* * *

Entering the main hall, Loghain and the Arl exchanged greetings as the younger man watched.

"Arl Howe? I was not aware of your new position."

"My fortunes are much improved these days" Howe replied, watching carefully as Thomas joined them.

"Good to see you too, Thomas" he added, receiving a nod in return as both Howes turned their attention to Loghain.

"He'll need to stay here, until I know more" the Regent carefully whispered. Howe's scowl quickly shifted to a smirk, before he motioned to a guard.

Any question he might have asked was cut off as a hilt-strike to his head slammed the confused visitor into unconsciousness. "He seemed familiar" Howe said with disinterest as two guards lifted the prone body.

"That's Oswin – Sighard's son" Thomas replied with a similar lack of concern.

"I'm afraid he knows delicate information, that I'd rather not start circulating around Fort Drakon" Loghain finally said.

"Ah… lucky for us, one of the Kendalls had the foresight to install their charming basement facilities" Howe scoffed. "Lock him downstairs, with the other one." Smirking, the guards dragged Oswin away to the stairs as the three men retired to the study.

Leaning back in the large chair, Howe motioned for the others to sit. "I hear some more rabble arrived in town today."

"Lothering's emptied itself as well… and they've installed themselves inside the Highever Estate."

Raising an eyebrow, Howe nodded. "I suppose I don't need to use all three… I'll make sure to stress how generous I am to let them stay, to the other lords."

"I've quarantined them inside, in case they might have Blight sickness… and to contain two rumours. So far, only they and Oswin are aware of them."

"Something scandalous, no doubt?" Howe smirked, sipping from his goblet. "Thirsty? I can have my new servant bring you something?"

Shaking his head, Loghain pressed on. "Scandalous? Try _dangerous_. Supposedly, they received the Estate key from a young man… claiming to be Fergus Cousland."

Eyes narrowing, Howe grimaced. "Thankfully, that's incorrect. Their other little worm has slipped the hook, it seems." He lifted a note on his desk, and began reading. "_Slender male youth, possibly late-teens. Reddish hair. Hollow, depressed demeanour. Flouted his money-purse when buying out a gouging merchant… emblazoned with a silver laurel wreath. Had lengthy, distraught conversation with subject, owing to her guise as a lay-sister. _Marjolaine's agents were keeping an eye on her target, and making notes on anyone she had noticeable contact with. This was the last one they recorded, since they both left the village in the morning after a Darkspawn attack. Noting the emblem, she brought it to my attention… since she was already sending her men to liquidate her target; she kindly offered to add him to their orders as it seems they met up on the outskirts and departed together in a small group. They will both be removed in no time at all, without costing us anything."

"Let's hope so… this whole mess you've created needs to be sorted quickly."

"I heartily agree – it'll be much easier once the last of those traitors is found. Who knows what he was up to abroad, since his scholarship went suspiciously longer than most?"

Watching Howe take another gulp of wine, Loghain fought back a frown. 'Do not mistake me for a fool, I will find out your schemes.' "Luckily, this other problem stayed out of the town so only Oswin is aware of it."

"Ah yes, I wondered what could lead him to my care?"

"He failed to apprehend Cailan's advisor, Maraigne. He claims it is because Cailan himself arrived and took the man…"

"Ah… I was worried that might be a possibility."

Loghain rose from his chair and moved toward the desk. "It's not… I'm sure of it. It's Maric's bastard! I should have taken him with me, when he mentioned those treaties… which were so conveniently tailored to the other recruits! I don't know their game, but he was lying to me the whole time! Just like the rest of that damned family!" '_Keep him close, and he will betray you. Each time worse than the last. _You guessed incorrectly, witch. I've endured the failing of him and his children, instead.'

"You seem awfully sure of this… I'm told their resemblance was distinct enough to pick them apart. You know this better than anyone, of course, but how many times did Maric 'return from the dead'? Perhaps that particular luck has passed to the son… next time, send him on a ship. That has the best track record."

Scowling furiously, Loghain slammed his hands down on the desk. "Cailan is dead! He is certainly no Maric, and most of those escapes were due to me anyway! I hoped this son would know better, not being so hopelessly pampered as Cailan was… and that the Orlesian influence amongst the older Wardens had not spread. I already ordered the borders shut to them… it only remains to be seen if those recruits have the loyalty necessary to help me see it done. The bastard, however…"

"If you're sure of it… Thomas, send him in."

Nodding, he opened the door to reveal a tanned Elf, clad in dyed armour. "The Antivan Crows send their regards."

"An _assassin?_ "

"I established local connections, in case of certain complications from across the sea… if we're going to dispatch a supposed monarch, without notice, we should send the best."

'_Keep him close, and he will betray you. Each time worse than the last…_. _Next time, I don't come to your rescue. You're on your own._' "Get it done!" he spat, returning to his seat.

Bowing, the Elven Crow departed the room as silently as he arrived.

"Cheer up, Your Majesty" Howe spoke. "Soon, our path will be clear and we can make Ferelden great again. I even managed to talk down some of the lesser rabble amongst the Bannorn today. They were making noise about 'the peculiarity of my double-advancement.' I simply had to get indignant about them questioning you, and your poor grief-stricken daughter. Then I silenced them with a grand declaration."

Thomas laughed. "None of them could argue with 'If anything I've had to done was not in the best interests of our nation, may the Maker unleash wrath upon me!' Not when he was clutching a copy of the Chant."

Refilling his goblet, Howe smirked. "After all, who can argue with where His divine shadow falls? Highever… and Redcliffe. So unfortunate…"

* * *

**Another cameo, another name-drop... and finally got around to bringing in Zevran.**


	22. Arrivals

**Orzammar**

Wincing at the rumbling grind of the doors closing behind him, Brosca looked around the Hall of Heroes. 'Just relax, they can't touch you now.' Continuing forward, he ignored the odd looks his group drew.

"I wonder if that idiot's still complaining, while unconscious" Varric put forward, trying to restart conversation as the others gazed at the Paragon statues.

"Having felt her shield, I would be surprised if his mouth were intact" Sten muttered, as he studied one in particular.

"Oh, I'm sure I rattled his teeth… I had to listen to his act a few times, at the staging camp before Ostagar – well, knocking him senseless was therapeutic." Aveline replied. "Just another of those fools who think delivering a message makes them a big deal… to the point of insulting the overseer for letting us through."

"No, I'm the _filthy brand_ he was ranting about" Brosca said, waiting by the next doorway. "Some things never change…"

"So they would really squander their most resolute? Curious."

"Believe it, big guy. That's why my mother never got homesick for this place" Varric answered as they entered the Commons. Before they had a chance to marvel at the cavernous city and its architecture, a heated argument broke out nearby. Watching the two groups scatter after one of the ringleaders was slain upon the steps, Brosca saw the guards finally approach the scene. "Yep, nothing ever changes…" he snarled under his breath as the Captain ignored the body and marched over.

"We've enough to worry about, without the casteless sending out some thug carrying weapons. Your name, now."

"Just 'Warden' will do" Brosca replied, which caused Varric a restrained chuckle. "Told you it would catch on."

"I heard they recruited a brand, but I thought it was a joke. Surfacers and their cloud-addled heads…"

Sensing Sten shift his weight, the Dwarven Warden cut in. "As part of their wisdom, they sent me back to see this treaty fulfilled." Muttering about the Assembly dead-lock, the Captain finally gave directions on where to find the necessary people to seek an audience with the duelling nobles.

"So now we have to get stuck in politics… any chance Bianca can just shoot me now?"

"Sorry, _Warden_. If we have to endure it, so do you."

* * *

**Brecilian Forest**

Leaving the Halla pen, Theron and Morrigan found Surana walking away from a group of the Dalish they had finally found. "Just sorting out a misunderstanding with two of their youths" she announced. "What did you find?"

"A sick Halla – Morrigan was able to help."

"It was simple enough. The handler was simply preoccupied with the wrong creature."

"Right then… shall we head on, while we've got the light?"

Nodding, they all headed for the small path that led further into the forest. After crossing two streams, Theron motioned for them to stop before he looked around carefully. "So… everyone else get the feeling Zathrian was holding something back?"

"Tis quite obvious."

"Definitely."

Barking his assent, Garahel sat back and sniffed the air. Watching his nose twitch, Theron prepared his bow. "There's at least one bear nearby… and something else. Make sure you're ready, before we go any further."

Continuing on, they found the path blocked by a pack of the Werewolves. "We will not permit you to harm the Lady!"

"I don't have time for this" Theron spat, stepping forward. "If killing Witherfang gets things over with, so be it. Now, where is it?"

As the beasts snarled in response, Neria's hand twitched as she warningly held it out. A Spirit Bolt smashed one of the creatures in the face, dropping it in a heap as the others sprang forward in rage. 'I'd apologise for my control slipping, but who'd listen?' she thought in panic, bashing her staff into the snout of the first to reach her. Morrigan began her invocation for an animal form, barely changing shape to a bear before another assailant pounced at her. Facing two of the beasts, Theron managed to trip one with his bow as it advanced, leaving Garahel to quickly savage the downed creature's throat as he nocked an arrow and stared down the apparent leader.

"Enough! You will never reach the Lady!" it growled, departing with the remaining creatures hobbling after it. Lowering his bow, Theron watched the path until he was sure they had gone.

"Everyone alright?"

"Just a little shaken… I'm sorry about that. I was trying to keep something channelled and ready if they attacked, but I flinched and it launched itself." Neria coughed, staring down at the dead Werewolves.

Shimmering back into her form, Morrigan held her shoulder. Wincing, she looked at the wound. "We may have a problem" she began, as an odd smirk grew across her face. "Then again, perhaps not" she added, before vanishing in what resembled an explosion of fur. A dark-furred Werewolf stood in her place, offering the same smirk before dropping to all fours and racing off in the same direction the others had gone.

"… well, we better follow her. Right?" Neria asked hesitantly, staring down the path in shock.

"I'm not sure we have much choice… Zathrian better be right about knowing how to stop this curse." Theron answered, drawing another arrow as his Mabari cautiously picked up the scent.

* * *

**Redcliffe**

Fastening his cuffs, Aedan looked in the mirror. "Not a bad fit… not sure about the waistcoat."

Alistair shrugged, pulling on his boots. "All I know is that the colours are right for the season… must be from a Denerim tailor."

"Most likely… is it Drakonis already?" the Cousland asked, combing his hair lightly.

"It's halfway gone, so it'll be Cloudreach before we know it. Hopefully the better weather helps us get more nobles willing and able to send troops to help the war effort."

"Cloudreach… my birthday already" Aedan muttered. "The rain seems to have petered itself out during winter, with any luck it stays that way" he offered in a louder voice, before slipping on his shoes. "Should we wait here to be summoned, or just go upstairs?"

"Knowing Isolde, waiting might be better. She's probably tempted to serve me rancid meat already; I won't push my luck by intruding further."

"The workers weren't exactly flattering either" Kallian said, standing at the doorway. "Honestly, she sounds like a vindictive cow."

Alistair buttoned his shirt nervously, keeping his gaze on the floor. "Couldn't you have knocked? You might have caught us before we were decent."

"I grew up in an Alienage – this is just the best way to hurry someone up."

Finishing with his tie, Aedan simply shrugged. "Apart from that, Alistair, perhaps her goal was a free show?" he asked.

Seeing the young Warden blush further, she grinned and rustled his messy hair. "There was a show? I shall have to pop along earlier, next time."

"I just brushed that" he whined, trying to retreat.

"Seriously? Hold still, I'll give it an actual brushing" she declared, kneeling onto the bed. Aedan handed over the comb as she snapped her fingers. "No good, where's the brush?" Picking it up from the stand, Alistair handed it over indignantly as she stared at his hair. "You need a washing, badly" she announced, forcing the brush across his scalp.

"Gently!"

"Maker… who taught you grooming?"

In between his laughs, Aedan managed to answer. "Didn't he tell you? He was raised by dogs, up in the mountains."

"I wouldn't be surprised, looking at this. You're even worse than Soris."

"I hate both of you…" he muttered, grimacing at each movement of the brush. "This couldn't get any worse."

"I'm heading into the town, for a while. Did anyone want me to bring back… a brush?" Leliana asked, peering in.

"Come look at this" Kallian grunted in response, battling another tangle.

"Please don't" Alistair pleaded, already feeling her kneel next to the Elf.

"Maker's breath!" the Orlesian exclaimed. "This is almost as bad as Bon-Bon, and he used to bite anyone who tried to groom him."

"Well, he was raised by slobbering, giant dogs!" Aedan squeezed out, as he failed to fight back his returning laughter. Glowering at the other man, Alistair felt Leliana lift herself off the bed. Trying to watch what she was doing, Kallian spun his head back into place and resumed seeking out the visible clumps. The ex-Bard promptly returned, wielding another brush. Finally composing himself, Aedan watched in amused delight as they both went to work.

"You think this is funny, but it's not" Alistair said despairingly as they tilted his head forward. Hearing the laughter return, and then a loud whack as Aedan's bobbing head smacked into the wall behind him, the suffering blonde looked over at him. Rubbing his head while still giggling, he nodded toward the door.

'Don't tell me…' Alistair begged, right as someone coughed. "I'm not sure what _this_ is" Cailan began, "but I was just lurking around the kitchen, and I think it's almost ready to serve. Smells good, too."

"It better be… I've earned something amazing after this" his half-brother whimpered.

* * *

**Denerim**

Slipping through the darkened streets, Hawke stopped and looked back while Leandra stood nervously.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I'm not sure what other choice we have, Mother. They chained up everyone else from Lothering already… and we did tell Carver to get to Kirkwall. We stick to the plan… especially with this." Garrett held up the weird amulet he had been given by Flemeth, after she had saved them both from Darkspawn. "I gave my word to that … woman, in return for her rescuing us. Even without the Darkspawn, that wheel was never going to fit back onto the cart. Everyone else in the convoy probably thinks we're dead, since we never caught up to them again. She got us here, so a deal's a deal. I just have to take this to some mountain."

"I still can't figure out why she was so furious about us not heading south."

"Something about her 'schedule'… they were right, though. That whole area must be crawling with 'Spawn. If they swarmed the Brecilian Passage, they'll have a clear run at Lothering by now."

"I hope the others are alright… oh, Bethany."

Peeking around the corner, he grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry Mother… but we need to go. The night watch has moved on."

Reaching the docks, they moved slowly down the ramps. About to pass another man, Hawke politely stopped him. "Excuse me; do you know many of the ships?"

"Only a few… any one in particular?"

"The Siren's Call. I was told I could arrange passage to the Free Marches with the captain."

"Isabela? This time of night, she's probably at The Pearl." He drunkenly pointed to a well-lit building further down the shore. "If she's pre-occupied, you'll need to find Casavir. They'll see you right."

Opening the door, they had to stand back as three bleeding men ran out. "She's too good!" one cried in panic as they went.

"I think I'll stay outside, with Courser" Leandra said, watching them. The hound barked in agreement as Hawke nodded and entered the Pearl. 'Huh… good thing she didn't come in' he thought, watching two of the workers as they passed him. 'She fits the description, though.' He sat down at her card-table, ignoring her frown.

"I'm told you're the Captain to ask about passage to Kirkwall?"

"I could be… that depends on who gave the recommendation?"

"He said his name was Aedan, and"

She cut him off by pulling a dagger, and holding it dangerously close. "Do not try to use a dead man's name as currency. Especially not that one. Try again, and make it good."

"Dead?"

"Dead. I've had guards and servants ask… I even got dragged before that lovely Queen of yours, to answer questions."

"About my height? Reddish-brown hair, accompanied by a Dwarf?"

Lowering the dagger, she watched him carefully. "Perhaps… go on."

"They reached our town, after weeks on the road. When he heard we planned to go to Kirkwall, he mentioned you'd be leaving soon – no questions asked." He slid forward a card, which she picked up and studied.

"Funny thing, this card - one just like it disappeared from my personal deck a while back."

"He said to say it must have fallen down a Rabbit hole… before getting coughed up again."

"I can guess just which Rabbit, too… very well. We should be ready to depart tomorrow evening. There's word of an Antivan blockade, out to sea, so I want to know your cargo up-front."

"Myself, my mother, and our Mabari. Our only cargo is two bags of clothes we took with us" he produced his two daggers and placed them on the table "and these, of course."

"I see… well then, you've got a ship. Casavir!"

"Captain?"

"We've got some passengers, do show them on-board."

"But – Sanga's going to bring someone for me. Can it wait?"

"Don't worry, dear, she won't go to waste. Just order another when you get back."

Slumping his shoulders, he nodded. "Come along, then."

* * *

_Couldn't find a 'semi-canon' name for the DA2 Dog, like Rabbit, and Coursing came to mind when thinking of similar names. So, Courser... even though that's technically for a horse. Go with it._


	23. Getting Political

**Orzammar**

Standing at the back of the chamber, the four travellers all frowned at the bickering Assembly. At the same moment, the Steward declared a recess. "These fools are meant to be more important than the rest of the city? I do not see it."

"You said it, Mumbles. They make Dumar look proactive…"

"Let's just find this person, and move on" Aveline shrugged, watching the room empty. Seeing someone approach, she stopped leaning against the wall. "Here comes someone."

"Piotin… if anyone can get us into the Palace, it's him" Brosca nodded, stepping forward. "Greetings, on behalf of the Grey Wardens."

Giving the group a wary look, the warrior stared at the Warden for a moment. "So it is you… I remember your performance at the Proving, before you disgraced it. Why are you back?"

"The Wardens seek the aid of Orzammar."

"Of course they do… useless cloud-heads. Trian can't see anything done until the throne is secured, so it seems you've wasted a trip. Although… given your ability to shake things up, you may just be the one to tip the balance in our favour. I can get you an audience, but that's not a guarantee he'll help you."

"It's a start, at least. Please, lead the way."

Marching through the Diamond Quarter, Piotin occasionally snorted a snippet of information. "Whatever your fellow brands are planning, they're remaining _mostly _quiet." Hearing an argument further down the street, he frowned. "Meanwhile, others keep making the same disturbances." Waving over a guard, he pointed in that direction. "That wastrel Oghren is here again – have him removed, quietly."

"News of the hour: Trian supporters are resorting to murder! Will anyone be safe?"

"News of the hour: Harrowmont thug slain in self-defence. Prince Trian vows investigation!"

"And then there's those two… we put our own man out here after Harrowmont's crier started, hopefully it makes a difference."

Finally reaching the Palace, Piotin led them past the sentries and down a hallway. "The Prince is meeting with his advisors again, so I'll show you to the guest-wing." Gazing up at Sten, one of the servants approached. "I believe Room Six has not been rearranged after Warden Grigor stayed – it should suit him."

Looking back at the Qunari, Piotin nodded. "Let's hope so. Please, follow her to the rooms. I shall let Trian know you have arrived."

Watching the attendants scurry in and out of their rooms as they carried various items, Brosca yawned. "Once they're done, I need a nap before meeting with anyone. Hopefully being back under the Stone will improve my dreams."

"Not a bad idea – personally, I want a bath first." Aveline said, causing two of the servants to stop and whisper, before one disappeared down the hall.

"I'm going to look around" Varric replied. "I have some business paperwork to exchange, and a few things to check with the Shaper. After that… I might see if Tapsters is worth a visit."

"I shall seek out a reading room, I think."

"If it's history you're after, come to the Shaperate. It's where they keep all their records."

Sten nodded, watching the servant reappear. "Very well."

"Excuse me, Mistress. I've checked, and the water _is _flowing to your rooms."

"Thank you… I've heard about Dwarven plumbing, but never seen it."

* * *

**Brecilian Forest**

Waving another farewell to Aneirin, Neria caught up with Theron. "Any luck?"

He nodded, motioning at the dead bodies. "Took some searching, but I finally found the damned acorn. Did you find out who that was?"

"He's an ex-Circle runaway… actually, we both studied under Wynne. He came down to see what all the noise was, from our battle with this lunatic" she commented, standing over the hermit. "I offered your thanks for pitching in with his healing."

"Fair enough – thanks. Let's just get this back to that stupid Oak. The sooner we can get through the barrier, the better." Before he could turn, she grabbed his shoulder.

"We _will _find a way to help her" she said, trying to sound reassuring. He nodded in gratitude, before slowly replying.

"As she said this morning, if anyone's going to figure this mess out – it'll be you. I know I haven't exactly been decent to you, but she's right… without you, we'd have never gotten past that Abomination ambush last week."

"I… we've made it this far by trusting each other. Come on… let's go get our shrew back."

* * *

With the Branch finally obtained, they head back towards the barrier.

"That's odd, I can't sense it at all now" Neria mused, as they reached the clearing.

"Took you long enough… what have you been doing?" a familiar voice asked, causing them to spin about. Morrigan stood against a tree, watching them in amusement. "Worry not, the call of Witherfang remains controllable. I merely manipulated it to trigger a transformation early, and looked around their home unchallenged. I also learnt how to shut down their force-field from the other side, while I was waiting. Was my trail not obvious enough to follow?"

"We were looking for a way in, so we didn't stay" Neria shrugged. "Then we had to deal with poet trees and blathering madmen. I'll tell you the details later" she finished, seeing the impatience on Theron's face.

"Let's get in there, and just gut Witherfang already" he offered, staring at the collapsed building.

Morrigan shook her head, fighting a growing urge to snarl at Garahel as he sniffed her uncertainly. "About that… we were right about Zathrain being less than honest. Witherfang has offered to speak with you, though." Shapeshifting back into her Werewolf form, she pointed to the ruins. "Follow me closely, and they will not attack you again" she declared in a raspy growl.

"The others better not be enjoying themselves" Theron muttered darkly, before following. "Another ruined temple in the middle of the Forest… these places always have the nicest cursed mirrors."

"If we're lucky, the others are having just as much fun as us" Neria said, picking up the rear with Garahel, as it slunk along in an attempt to stay as far from Morrigan as possible.

* * *

**Redcliffe**

"My apologies again for the inadequate table, Cailan" Isolde repeated, as they sat waiting for the food to be served. "Unfortunately, our ceremonial table was quite scuffed up and I had to send it into the town for rework."

"It's fine, thank you" the King said absently, staring at the kitchen door as he waited for the food to be carried out. 'I can't wait for a decent meal after weeks of camp-fare.'

Glancing briefly at the smaller table set up at the other end of the room, Teagan nodded. "That's curious; it had looked fine last time I was here."

"I noticed this morning; perhaps it was more visible in natural light. This is why we need table-clothes, Eamon. You'd think somebody in this country would be producing them, by now." Turning to Aedan on her left, she continued. "Meserre Doulaine, perhaps your contacts could find one?"

'Remember the accent…' "They're easily obtained in Kirkwall; I believe I could have some shipped with little effort when I return." 'Should I have added an honorific?' He quickly weighed up the seating arrangements. 'Cailan in the head chair, the Arl and Bann on one side, herself and me on this side, and Elric on the end opposite Cailan… while dumping Kallian and Alistair at the glorified kid's table. Real subtle too, swapping out the larger table – she can stuff her title.'

"You seem oddly familiar" Teagan commented, "Would we have met?"

"Perhaps you've seen my father before; he's a renowned knife-juggler for a travelling troupe. I understand they reach Denerim every few years. I didn't have the reflexes, so my only use on the circuit was as a barker… after fourteen or so, boys aren't cute or charming enough to talk people in, so I returned home to Kirkwall to join the other family business. My Grandmother runs one of the main shipping houses, and was just happy that someone 'knew actual responsibility' and gave up the road. She's been slowly preparing me to take over, if she ever retires, and she felt it would be a learning experience for me to personally meet our Dwarven contacts... between you and me, she's expecting them to underestimate someone my age, which will let me sneak some better concessions into the contracts. The travelling associates I met in Denerim, the Feddics, planned to stop at the Wilds camp on our way. We arrived too late, but met King Cailan's entourage on their own travels here. Meserre Feddic had to change course for his own business, so I had to change company. Here I am, enjoying your hospitality."

Watching the main table try to follow his stream of conversation, Kallian shook her head. 'I'm not sure how he does that… maybe he knew his Dwarf friend too long.'

'Nice bluff, young man, but how are you on the smaller details' Elric wondered. "What travelling group did you say that was?"

"Cabrera's, they started out of Antiva. They were actually where the original Broma Brothers got their first break."

"Ooh, I saw them once!" Cailan declared excitedly. Getting Eamon's trademark stare, he shrugged. "The ship home from Antiva got delayed; I had to find something to do."

"They got sick of travelling, and joined the City Circus instead. I hear some of the son/nephew combinations still take outside bookings, but they don't travel cheap."

"Too bad Connor is asleep already; he'd probably like carnival stories."

"Ugh, he has been just impossible lately without his ex-tutor. I'm almost willing to hire anyone."

"She moved on?" Cailan asked. 'That's a shame, she was always so _friendly_.'

"I had to send her packing… she had no idea of propriety. Loghain said he could find a temporary replacement, but they still haven't arrived."

Teagan remained quiet, as the meals were finally brought out. 'Another one of Cailan's messes that he had to clean up? And his _Regent_ business… damn Isolde's table rules, we need to discuss this as soon as we can.'

Aedan took a few bites of the sliced chicken, before switching to some pumpkin. 'Quail spices on chicken? Lady, just accept that Orlesian flavour doesn't translate to everything…'

* * *

As the plates were cleared away, Cailan turned to his uncles. "So… any big developments I need to know about, before I announce my resurrection?"

The brothers shared a quick look, and exhaled in unison before Eamon replied. "Loghain's superseded his daughter, and declared himself Regent." Getting no reaction, Teagan took over.

"There's the situation in the north, too… despite all the objections and calls for investigation, Loghain's gone over the Landsmeet by appointing Howe to further authority as the new Arl of Denerim, and Teyrn of Highever."

Choking on a mouthful of wine, Aedan dropped his goblet to the floor before he bolted from the room. "Pardon my serah, I expect it's just his sensitivity to over-seasoned meat rearing up again" Kallian remarked as she spun out of her chair to trail after him. "Some fresh air will see him right… I hope."

"I'll just get out of your way as well" Alistair offered. "I think I forgot to fold my maps before dinner, so I better check on that."

* * *

_Thanks, L.P - I appreciate it. I think I'm better with ideas than structure, so I'm cool to float where I am. (Reader stats are pretty good for a first-time, I think, and I'm hardly a Raven or dominic.) Might re-do the first few chapters at some point, just for better flow early-on._


	24. The Lady of the Dust

**A whole Orzammar chapter, and I only use 'Nug' once... I don't know if that's good or bad.**

* * *

"What do you think?" Brosca asked, staring at the mirror. "Everything neat and shiny enough to meet with the Prince?"

"I would hope so" Aveline said, as he wiped his belt buckle again. "But then, I've only met royalty once – and he's a happy-go-lucky simpleton."

"Whereas Trian's consensus among the noble-hunters I knew was that he's a self-conscious wretch… forget it." Making sure the treaty scroll was still tucked into his belt, he turned to the door. "If it turns out Mumbles or Ser Suave have created a mess, I want you to-"

"Come get you to handle it?"

"Come get me… so we can ditch them and make a run for it."

"Now that's a fair plan" she grinned. "_Ser Suave_?"

"What, only he can invent nicknames? It may not be as uncreative as _Warden_, but I'll think of something worse."

"Be sure it's dreadful… well, I'm going to see if I can goad some of the guards into a sparring session. I need a work-out, to keep fresh – the road was too dull."

"My eye's probably off as well. I'll go hob-nob, and see if you're still at it when I finish."

* * *

"Ah, the Warden." Motioning him to sit, Trian waved his attendants out of the room. "I heard you were the one, from the Proving."

"Indeed I was – naturally, my employer neglected to mention it would be a Royal Honor Proving. My apologies for any inadvertent disrespect against your House."

"My advisors wanted me to seem outraged, especially given the history of your companion. I'm weary of such games, and as we need each other, let's be honest about things. Agreed?"

"I agree, but I'm confused. There's a problem with my companions?"

"Varric Tethras… their House were once nobility here, until his father was found to be behind a racket that had fixed fights in several Provings. They were exiled… the Shaper could find no mention of a Varric, so I assume he was born wherever they settled on the surface."

"Which just makes our group look shadier… I should have kept that fancy Human; he'd make a better impression, being related to one of their Deshyrs. Whatever they call them, up there."

"A Bann, usually. Anyway, let's get down to it. You're here to shore up support for the Blight… either it's worse than expected, or they aren't taking it seriously."

"From what I hear, a mixture of both. Their main General doesn't even believe there is one."

"Given his reputation, I didn't expect the man to be a fool. Yet he sends an addled half-wit to _demand _my allegiance against his own people, and doesn't check with us about the Blight. We've already noticed the Darkspawn falling back a great distance… the Roads emptying out only ever means one thing. Not that he or that fool King they had bothered to ask, or have they forgotten we deal with their mess every damned day?!"

"Their mess?"

"According to their priests, the Darkspawn were created by some fool experiment of the Magic-Casters. If they can't see it, it's not a problem! … In any case, nothing can be done while the Assembly are dead-locked."

"I'd heard as much… I may just be going from what little I heard, being a Duster and all, but you seem the smarter choice. I vaguely recall Harrowmont once had some foolish petition about leaving our defences to the Legion, and sending the Warriors overland to demand Kal Sharok bow to Orzammar."

"Even the surfacers were mocking that… he may not be as vocal, but he's still hopelessly mired in tradition. Frankly, we need certain changes while we're still able to make them – even the Darkspawn adapt faster than we do. Some are being forced upon us already, as you know."

"I'm not sure I do, Your Majesty?"

"You haven't tried to stop by Dust Town, to see your family?"

"I thought it best to secure our business first, and then visit without interruption."

"Ah… I'll try to explain, as best I can. After the Proving, and your departure, several Houses went out into the Deep Roads on an expedition. My brother, Bhelen, had arranged two ambushes. The first involved two bands of Carta thugs, waiting for my sister's group… I had joined her, mostly to gloat about what happened to her Proving and how it somehow meant I was the better heir." Taking a drink, Trian shook his head. "_There is no greater hatred than a brother at your throat_, as they would say about us in Kal Sharok."

"Two groups… that seems _off_" Brosca cautiously offered.

"I'll get to that: meanwhile, all this being arranged before the Proving, our brother had a lone assassin at another point. His task was to quietly murder me… but I had gone down the other tunnel, so his vague orders of 'kill the man in Aeducan armour' were carried out against my father."

"The King…"

"Only realising the complications after I did not follow the main group, I can't imagine what went through Bhelen's head… but, he remained by our father as they slowly split up down several tunnels. He even tried to fight off his own assassin, but they were both wounded. I was the only survivor of the other group… we found the assassin's note on his body. The only way the thugs could have been waiting for us, in the sealed ruins, was if they had an Aeducan House ring."

"Further proof."

"Yes, so he hoped… he bribed one of my men to steal my Ring, to place the blame on my head. Upon our return, I sent a large number of the Warrior Caste to _pacify_ the Carta. Beraht and his lieutenant Jarvia were both slain, along with a large number of the lower leadership. Amongst the seized correspondence, we found confirmation that Bhelen had arranged the assassin. The thugs, meant for Sereda, weren't as organised. We've only found two writs about them so far. One, saying _the buyer_ had cancelled the strike, after the Proving. Perhaps he thought that mess and my subsequent rantings would be enough to bury her value amongst the Assembly. Beraht's note at the bottom indicates he sent a reply that, due to the short-notice, recalling the group was probably impossible. As a response to Father's declaration Sereda would still lead her team to recover the Aeducan shield, the Carta were later paid to arrange another team. Since they weren't sure if the first would be still there, with the stolen Ring, the second group were provided with Bhelen's own. We've yet to find anything on paper… perhaps Bhelen, now with a contact in the Carta, arranged the thugs in person. He had to have passed on the rings, at some point, after all."

Slowly exhaling, Brosca thought for a moment. "So, only the Carta were purged?"

"The leaders and whichever of the rank and file that didn't surrender… we actually found your accomplice. Leske, was it?" The branded Dwarf nodded, before Trian continued. "Still caged – since you had slipped Beraht's wrath, he bribed certain guards and had Leske taken from the prison. We found him in the Carta's own cells, badly whipped. In case old loyalties led someone to finish him off later, your friend was exiled… for his own sake." The Prince handed over a goblet of water. "As for your family, I believe they're all unharmed. We're… well, we can't be sure. Some weeks back, after the beginning of the deadlock, several barricades were positioned along the entrance. Between that and their sentries, they've sealed off Dust Town. They occasionally send out crews to seize rations and medicine, but that's all. All we know is that they're led by _The Lady_, who has refused any attempted communication while the deadlock stands. Several of the Assembly are concerned it's just a bluff to buy time while they stockpile weapons, despite the fact they haven't taken any."

"Dust Town is probably armed enough, already."

"True… I believe you can help us resolve this. Once Tethras returns from the errand I offered him, I suggest we attempt to speak with them. He simply has to show some paperwork to two Lords… Harrowmont tried to offer them the same part of his estate as a bribe. Luckily, the deadlock means nobody's bothered lifting the ban I placed on Deep Roads travel until my sister's body was excavated and given proper placement under the Stone. Otherwise, Lord Dace would have gone off on an expedition somewhere."

"You banned _all_ travel?"

"The lyrium miners are allowed out, with strict conditions on where they dig… I was concerned the Carta might attempt to remove evidence from the scene, and anyone I approached about retrieving the bodies expected much the same – so they all declined, in fear of attacks. By the time the Carta were taken care of, the deadlock was in full effect… I still haven't brought her home."

"So, you think I can talk down this Lady… why?"

"I'd be willing to let them stay, and govern themselves, but resolving the situation will hopefully give me an edge over Harrowmont. Why you? I strongly suspect the Lady is your sister."

"Rica would need something drastic, to do anything like what you've described."

"Yes… right before Pyral made his challenge, she tried to speak with me. Did you know your sister had managed to get Bhelen's attentions?"

"From memory, she mentioned meeting someone who might be a way out… obviously, I loathed the fact she had to resort to noble-hunting, so I tried to avoid the details."

Pausing, Trian stood and walked over to Brosca. "… She was successful. Between Bhelen's death and the removal of the Carta, she was feeling lost, no doubt. On the day she tried to seek an audience, I was also lost after everything. Weary after hours of hearing out petitions, I told my guards to record her name and ask her to return at a later time. The very next message I received that evening was Harrowmont's declaration against me. Once the challenge and deadlock began, I was unable to have her summoned… I'm not even sure if the child has been born yet, I'm afraid."

"I… what will you do, with her and the child?" Brosca finally asked.

"I've had a lot longer to think about this, than I ever intended… if the child's a boy, I'll honour the old ways that come with such a situation. Your family will be taken care of, I promise. A girl… I'll do what I can, but perhaps the kindest thing would be discreetly hand over a large sum and have them moved to the surface. Tethras tells me that Surfacers have reasonable opportunities in the Free Marches. All of that, at risk of pushing my agenda, requires I be King."

"Yeah… even with victory, I think Harrowmont's got a more brutal solution to an Aeducan foundling."

"So… we're in agreement?"

"Like I said, I was siding toward you anyway. It seems our families are meant to be entangled, so let's trust Fate on this… and I appreciate your honesty. I'll let Ser Aveline know, while we wait for Varric."

"… Right then. I'll prepare my honour guard, and we'll set out when you're ready. I'm told your tall friend is still pouring over the Shaperate records."

"Figures… I'll let him sit this one out."

A knock at the door came, before Varric was shown into the room. "I met with the two Houses… and they weren't impressed." His smile only slightly dropping, he added "Luckily for you, they didn't notice it was a forgery."

"His men are too careful, for us to obtain the original. Did they both acknowledge their deal with him?"

"They did."

"Then the fact still remains – he was playing them both with the same bait."

"Oh, I don't argue with that. I just prefer to know upfront, if I'm to be dealt a fixed hand. That kind of thing has bitten my family before, as you know."

"My apologies, then" Trian offered out a hand, as Aveline was shown in. "Right – Warden, I'll check on my guard. We'll be outside, while you brief your team. How much you tell them, about our entire discussion… that's up to you."

Once the door clicked shut, Varric turned back with his trademark smile. "If he's talking about The Lady, that rumour's being flying about for a while. I think I even heard some of it from one wonderful specimen, in Tapsters. Right before he yelled 'Asschabs!' and passed out."

"Go on…." Aveline prompted, to his confusion.

Brosca shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not _your_ nickname."

"Not a bad one, I agree, but it's already taken. Sorry" Varric shrugged. "A mysterious woman who took over the slums… supposedly, it's his sister."

"So – what's the problem?" she asked, mostly masking her irritation. "You're not marching against her?"

"No. Trian and I, and you guys, if you want, will go in and hopefully arrange a resolution. If we can do it peacefully, it should tip the Assembly in his favour. Before Harrowmont sends in his goons, as well."

"Sounds like a plan" she nodded. "Hopefully I don't need it, but I got a decent warm-up with the guards before.

* * *

Standing before the first barricade, Brosca carefully watched the tattooed faces sizing him up. 'Slingshots, mallets… and a few ropes. The next wave has daggers… Restrain and knock-out wanderers, kill any breach attempt.' "Hi there" he waved, pointing to his own brand. "Any chance I can pass? I'm just bringing some friends home, to meet the family."

"You've awful fancy friends, for one of us… and shiny armour."

"A side-effect of being a Grey Warden, buddy. Warden Faren Brosca, to be precise."

The apparent leaders gave each other a look, before one departed. 'They know the name, at least.'

"What if we decide not to let you in?" the other challenged.

"I'll just have to go to the armour merchant's and kick down that fake wall. I don't mind the long way."

Numerous guards began murmuring, on both sides of the stand-off. 'Ah, the city guards never found that… typical' he smirked to himself.

"So you're not just a poser, then… tell you what, let's all just wait and see what the Lady thinks of this, yeah?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Brosca had decided to sit down. "Still no movement" he mumbled, right as a shadow loomed over him.

"I heard the record-keepers begin gossiping about a potential _problem _in this area, and knew you would be here" Sten remarked, with a faint ghost of a smile.

"Gotta go where the fun is" he replied. "Finished studying?"

"For now… everything seemed to end itself with a lengthy account of in-fighting. Shall we expect the same, today?"

"Hopefully not."

"Good – there is no value in how your people are treated by the others. If the goal is to further this, I will not follow you."

"If it comes to that, I won't follow me either."

Offering another look, somewhere between approval and amusement, the Qunari nodded toward the barricade. "It appears they want you."

The second leader had returned, clearing repeating something to himself. "Warden… Brosca, was it?"

"Correct."

"Right… The Lady says you can enter." Muttering something to himself again, he continued. "The Warrior-Lady… that would be you, Miss" he said to Aveline. "Cross-Bow Dwarf… and the Prince. If the Prince likes, 'e can bring two of his guards. Nobody else."

Stepping forward, Sten stared them down. "I will remain with the Warden… and I am worth two guards."

"At the very least" the casteless Dwarf nodded. "Right then, you come instead… she says you can leave your weapons here, or bring 'em with ya. Your choice?"

Trian and Brosca handed over their equipment, while the others just followed behind with tight grips. "Fair enough" replied the Dwarf. "Herself will have armed protection too, just so you know."

Finally reaching what had once been Beraht's office, their escort slipped out of the room as a number of heavily-armoured warriors filed in from side-passages. Once the door-lock loudly clicked down, a curtain was pulled back from another passage. Rica entered the room, staring at the five outsiders.

Pacing over to her brother, she launched into a hug. "I can't believe! I heard a Dwarven Grey Warden came to Orzammar, and I couldn't help but hope… look at you! My little brother, the returning hero. And with quite the unusual entourage…" her eye flickering to Trian. "… and the would-be Prince."

"I… my intention was to speak with you much sooner, but the deadlock took all of my attention. I apologise, Lady Rica."

"So that's what brings you here… if not for my brother's presence, _I _would have never allowed you in… but such a thing is not up to me." Nodding to one of the guards, she called out "I believe they're ready, my Lady."

The curtain parted again, allowing another Dwarven woman into the room. Stiffly walking to a seat in the middle of the room, she sat down slowly as the effort caused her scarred face to wince. Staring back and forward at each of the group, she finally lent forward.

"Oh, Nug-dung…" Brosca whispered under his breath, feeling his stomach sink.

"Fancy meeting you here, my dear brother. I do hope you aren't lowering yourself" she rasped, her eyes containing the warmth of a snakes' as they locked gazes. "Can't even say hello, now?"

"… Sereda?" Trian finally mumbled in shock.

* * *

_Insert your own Obligatory __**Dun Dun Dun! **__sting... for something spoiled months ago by calling it all-Origins in the blurb back on Chapter One. Ah well - I don't start bumping off Originals until after the Landsmeet... whoops, there I go again._


	25. Tangled Webs

**Orzammar**

Sereda leaned back in her chair, tapping on the armrest as Rica led her brother and his companions from the room. "You're hardly _qualified _for the Silent Sisters, Trian. Do try to speak up" she finally remarked, watching the Prince squirm as the Casteless enforcers moved into a closer formation around them.

"I thought you were dead…"

"Thought, or hoped? Is my survival yet another disappointment for you?"

Snorting in anger, he strode forward and slapped her across the face. "How dare… is that all you think of me?" he begged as the rage drained in a breath. "Was I really so bad?"

Poking at the split lip with her tongue, Sereda gave a hollow chuckle. "You know the answer to that, don't you?"

"… I suppose I do." Nodding as his expression slumped; she motioned to two of the guards. They dragged two chairs over to a small table, and saluted as she walked over. "Thank you, Jern. Akel. Please, leave us." They bowed slightly, before waving the others to stand down.

Trian hesitantly sat in the opposite seat, watching the guards file out. "... Sister?"

"If I wished you harm, I'd have followed through already. I never cared for all the underhanded tricks and traps… which is what we need to talk about."

"Bhelen…" Trian hissed at the thought.

"For starters" she replied, pouring a large bottle into two mugs.

* * *

Softly placing the baby back in the crib, Brosca smiled back at his beaming sister.

"He's watching you! Endrin's going to be so clever, I can tell."

"Just like you, Rica. She gave you this whole room for his nursery?"

"She's been so good to us, despite everything. Even Mother thinks so."

"Is she here too?"

"Yes, but she's napping in her room. She insists on taking a night-watch over him, and she cut back on her drinking. Do talk to her before you go."

"I'll try… I promise." Taking another look at his nephew, Faren slid an arm across his older sister's shoulder as they quietly walked out together. "You're still amazing, I hope you know that?"

Returning the gesture, she nodded. "You're better than you realise, too."

* * *

"You're certain of this?" Trian asked, draining the mug.

"I had a lot of time to think, while I was bed-ridden. They did what they could, the scavengers who pulled me out from the rubble, but I'll probably have the limp forever." She looked down at her scarred leg. "They only bothered checking the rock-pile because my leg had been caught in the collapse and so my foot was partly hanging out… at least _they_ found me, who knows would have happened if a buyable group of guards found me… or the Darkspawn…" Refilling his drink, she continued. "Whatever else we could say about him, Bhelen was not an idiot. Why would he send thugs to kill me, if his goal was to frame me for your murder? Or you for mine?"

"That… is a very good question. You suspect Harrowmont?"

"Consider this: Pyral had arranged it before my Proving, and when you and he seized on that fiasco to discredit me, he tries to cancel and get his coin back. When he learns I would still be on the expedition, with a mission that would possibly boost me, he panics and hires Beraht again. Unsure if the first group were recalled, they send more. If they were really Bhelen's men, they wouldn't have admitted that… and he wouldn't have used his own ring."

"But then I botch both their plans by being an overbearing moron…"

"All their schemes collapse."

"But Harrowmont had been the most vocal about pushing you, as opposed to me?"

"Even though he was an avowed Traditionalist… think about it. Someone like him was never going to support the election of a woman. If I were really his favourite, he wouldn't have sided with your condemnation about the Proving. He wanted it to pass, so that when the time came, he could point at your motion and say something like 'Trian's such a paranoid Nug-Humper that he dishonoured his own sister, even though she had sworn her loyalty to him repeatedly' to make himself look better than you."

"Nug-Humper? Really?"

"You heard me. "

"So he was counting on my paranoia about you?"

"The frog amongst the scorpions…"

"What?"

"Just a story I heard from a Human envoy, when I was a child" she shrugged, before holding up three fingers. "To him, I was just an instrument to be played… and when others sang along, he had to get me out of the way, I was a wild-card he might not have been able to beat. In Bhelen's mind, I was a scapegoat." With one finger still in the air, she waited for Trian's response.

"… Which leaves the idiot, who mistook you for a chew-toy. Think you might be able to forgive him, one day?"

"I'd like to, given time." She stood and walked around the table, placing a hand on his shoulder. "For what it's worth, you still have my support against Harrowmont. In return, I have my own favour to ask."

Trian nodded with hesitation. "I more than owe you..."

"When it's done, and you're King… I leave, and take the Casteless with me. We find our own place, and you do not try to stop us. I may not care about the throne, but these people need my leadership, and I will not allow them to live like this anymore." She noisily slammed down her mug, watching her brother intently. "Are we agreed?"

* * *

**Brecilian Forest**

Shoving through the undergrowth, Morrigan sighed in exasperation as she found the camp-site unattended. "Am I to do everything this evening?" she asked herself, while stomping towards the nearby stream. Noticing a clumsy pile of wood on the other side of Surana's abandoned tent, she slowed down and took a breath. 'I wonder if she took care of that before leaving… _he _had better not sulking again.' "Speak up!" she yelled, waiting a few seconds before Garahel barked in response. 'That way…'

Following the path, the Witch found Theron sitting against a tree with the Mabari lying across his legs. Garahel looked up at her, before dropping his head back onto his paws. Still staring at the running water, Theron pointed at two skinned rabbits that hung from a branch. "I've not forgotten" he mumbled, throwing a piece of bark into the water. "I'm still just thinking…"

"Zathrian again?"

"How far he took it… I wonder if that's how I sounded, with some of my rants toward Alistair."

"I hardly think mocking that fool is the same as choking countless people with misplaced hatred."

"Sure, he's hardly a genius and brings it on himself – but what's the point of blaming him for what his Commander did?"

"Truthfully, 'tis rather indulgent. Not to worry, though, he'll give you ample material himself."

'Is she missing the point on purpose? Of course, Theron – the discussion isn't about her, why would she care?' "I better get these cooking" he said, grabbing the rabbits as he stood. "Think Neria can find this place?"

"I would hope so – she may not spot the ruins or fire amongst the trees, but the Dalish clearing and its stench of Halla leavings should be evident. From there to here is easily travelled."

* * *

Shortly after dusk began to fall, Theron looked up from the stew pot as Garahel began barking in short intervals. Listening closer, he heard a hoarse bird-cry alternate with the Hound. "I expect that will be her now… I better help, in case this mongrel is not a sufficient beacon" Morrigan murmured, sending a blast of light into the sky above the trees.

He whined in response to her insult, as a small hawk landed nearby. A quick burst of energy flashed, before Neria fell back onto the grass from a crouched position. "Next time, I'm going to take longer rest-stops" she gasped, rolling her shoulders. "Especially if I'm carrying things… I'm not sure how the weight balance works when shape-shifting."

Theron looked about the camp-site, confused. "I think you might have dropped it… I didn't see you clutching anything when you arrived."

She shook her head, before patting her pocket. "No, I had them in here while I flew back."

Furrowing his brow, the Elvish Warden turned to Morrigan. "… let me guess: Magic?"

"Magic."

"Fair enough" he shrugged, deciding to focus on his cooking. 'I'm sure any attempted explanation of that will just keep me awake all night, if I try to make sense of it…'

"I'm not sure where they actually went, but I'll just say magic clothes have magic pockets" Neria said, taking a seat beside the fire. Handing over some herbs, she then produced a bone as well. "Anders swiped these from the Tower kitchen before he left… I have no idea why he took the bone." Tossing it to Garahel, she added "I thought it best not to ask, knowing him."

"How's he doing?"

"Well enough… he delivered the treaty, but he's not sure how much help they might be. One of the Enchanters tried starting a rebellion – they were put down, but the death count wasn't known when he set out. His group are heading for Redcliffe, to check in with the King, so he agreed to let them know we have an agreement with Lanaya."

"He's got a group now?"

"The farm-boy who was trailing that Templar… he wasn't even allowed onto Kinloch Island, so I guess he's just tagging along until the next town. Wynne decided to volunteer herself too, no doubt to keep an eye on Anders. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"That's the one who was at Ostagar? The bossy one?"

"Did she segue into a lesson, hidden in a story?"

"She turned a question about Darkspawn into something about Chantry teachings… I was still drifting in and out, even on my feet."

"That sounds like her… I told her about Aneirin, so she insisted I hand him this." Pulling out a roll of paper, she laughed. "I think she was more disappointed in my attire, than the shape-shifting. She's oddly pragmatic like that... but I think _this _would have been a different matter" she smirked, lifting up an old book. "Morrigan!"

"He found it?" the Witch asked in anticipation, marching over.

"While the Templars were helping Irving downstairs, he hung back and may just have taken the opportunity to paw through all of Irving's private goodies. He gave it to me while Wynne was working on her letter, so here you go" Neria explained, handing over the Grimoire.

"I half-expected him to forget… perhaps he is not as scatter-brained as the other Blondes we've had to deal with."

"What's this?"

"An old tome of Mother's, stolen years ago by a Templar who was wise enough not to challenge her directly. Somehow he took it for a trophy and escaped intact… and now _I _can pore over it as well, for some of Mother's closer-held secrets."

"Neria, you still want to study those tomes we found inside the ruins?"

She nodded enthusiastically "Lost Dalish 'Arcane warfare', not seen since the Imperium was pushed back? Sounds well worth the translation headaches to me."

"To use against Emissaries?"

"That too" she smiled. "Mostly, because it's fascinating."

"Fair enough… while you two are studying, I think I'll make a quick run into Denerim. We're not that far away, and I can get some supplies and information. I'll also report to Teyrn Loghain, we should keep him appraised on the situation."

* * *

**Denerim**

Snarling at the guards to leave, Loghain kept his eyes locked on the prison door. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked the caged man inside.

Squinting through a blackened eye, he sighed in relief. "Teyrn… I did it, and stayed silent like you said! Are you here to release me?"

"He was _not_ your target!" Loghain hissed, entering the small cell. "Make your story good, before I gut you."

"But… he was the man you mentioned. I was sure! Same name and everything!"

"What book?"

"It was still stuffed in my pack, from the Circle… I grabbed some random books in the library, to look busy while I copied maps for a travel route. One was all about the Arls and Banns, that's why I told you I could find the Arl! It's still in my room, upstairs."

Slamming the door locked behind him, Loghain motioned him to sit down. "Keep your mouth shut about this, until I return!" Returning to the guards near the stair-case, he grabbed one by the arm. "This mage… Jowan, where was he sleeping?"

"Second room on the right, servant's wing."

Shoving him out of the way, the Regent soon reached the room. Quickly finding the book, he sat upon the table and began flicking through. 'I shall find the _right _ page, and slam his face into it as he's dragged off by Howe's little torture team… wait…' Finding a page covered in various notations, Loghain groaned in painful realisation.

_Arl Rendorn, Redcliffe. (Silent 'R'? Keep hearing 'Rendon'… same Arling, and close enough)_

_Notable ally of the true Royalty during the Rebellion._

_Died during Battle of West Hill (Curious… erroneous reports? Book mentions Maric's rumoured 'deaths' on his pages, so such things were spread without confirmation…)_

_Survived by his three children – two boys, one woman. (Have confirmed that target has three children… sound younger? Book was reprinted with without updating the year of publication?)_

"Publication year?" Flipping to the inside cover, Loghain looked again. "9.04…. damned idiot!"

_(Perhaps it is Rendon Jr? Other servants confirm his last Arling was further west, before being promoted to Arl of Denerim. Family name is off, but all the Lords seem to use their first names – Teyrn Loghain, Bann Alfstanna, Arl Rendorn… and someone said his father was a traitor during Rebellion. He must have changed surname.)_

_(All evidence agrees – will volunteer to deliver his food tonight, add poison before approaching dining room. Thomas spending most nights at Pearl, so only one plate. No chance of wrong target)_

Slamming the book shut, Loghain growled at the situation. Striding back to the staircase, he descended and found Thomas outside the cell. "Our captive has the most _interesting _tale… which you know?" he said carefully, watching the Regent's face. Opening to the earlier page, Loghain slammed it into the younger man's chest.

"Read it" he snarled, before turning to Jowan's cell. "You had the wrong target, you moron! Did I not make it clear?"

"I don't understand… the book…"

"Damn the book, and you with it!"

"'all the Lords seem to use their first name'..." Thomas read out loud, studying the page. "Maybe using surnames is a northern thing. No, there's Bryland and Wulff, in the south… it doesn't make sense, if you think about it…" Looking over at Loghain's expression, he instantly knew to shut up.

"I'll leave him to your watch" the fuming Regent hissed, before beginning to walk away. "Just be careful… he managed to escape the Circle, with his powers."

"Not to worry, Sire. Father was already expecting some... experts, in such matters, from Tevinter. No doubt they can handle this one… and hopefully this poison too, when they arrive."

Making no response, Loghain simply left the Estate and continued out into the evening darkness.

* * *

**_The Rendon/Rendorn and name/surname things were odd little bits I noticed some time again... it's my AU, (refresher disclaimer: Everything else is BioWare's) so I'll pull at frayed edges, such as the redundant overkill of Bhelen's scheme, and make them into plot points if I want. No Redcliffe Crew, but the chapter's long enough, so they can wait until it's morning._**


	26. Before the Gates

**Pardon the delay - a character's set-up got moved about, had to re-write the chapter and alter some notes for his appearance.**

* * *

**Orzammar**

Standing in the ante-chamber, Brosca's contingent waited as the Aeducan siblings finally emerged. Waving down her guards, Sereda slowly sat back down and turned to the Dwarven Warden. "Just a reminder, in case your sister mentioned it – as far anyone outside of Dust Town knows, she is 'The Lady'. I'd rather not announce my survival until Harrowmont is away from the Throne."

"As you wish it" Faren replied, after receiving a confirmatory nod from Rica. Satisfied, Sereda's attention quickly turned to a waiting messenger as he whispered something to her. Frowning, she sat forward.

"Speaking of which, Brother… it seems you've made him desperate. His people pushed some form of 'emergency deadlock breaker' through the Assembly today, while you were all focused here, and he's gathering an expedition out into the Deep Roads."

"Paragon Branka…."

"That would be my guess… you had better be on your way."

"But…."

"Time just got short" she interjected, sliding back into the chair. "He's playing his last card on this, but you've got an advantage."

Brosca silently exhaled through his teeth, before taking position next to the Prince. "He's hoping the Roads will be emptying, with the Blight… whereas I'll know if anything's coming at me."

"I'll send the best of my own forces with you" Trian offered, fighting a growing panic.

"I… perhaps you should keep them here. The city's on edge enough, removing most of the infantry will make it worse. I can move faster by myself – hopefully, I can even find some debris from whatever's left of her expedition while they're still harnessing Brontos to their wagons."

"This is a fool's mission" Sten rumbled, locking eyes with the Warden.

"Yeah… and if I don't go, his people will give up and just pretend they found her. No offense, your Majesties, but I just want this lunacy over so I can get my duty done. If that means an insane dash to dig up the bones of some dead woman... I guess I better start running."

"We had better travel light, then" Aveline said, as she stepped over to Brosca's left.

"Indeed" was Sten's response, raising himself off the floor.

Looking about the room as everyone seemed to watch him in unison, Varric gave a low chuckle. "Ah crap… Deep Roads, here we come."

* * *

**Denerim**

Having left his Grey Warden equipment in a small pouch near the Forest's edge, Theron strode through the Denerim market carefully. 'Let's see how these people treat an Elf, without a fancy uniform… if they've heard about the Blight, I'd probably get crowded if they know I'm a Warden.'

Hearing Garahel return, he stopped to turn… as his Mabari stood happily, with an excited boy trailing close behind. "Puppy!"

"Uh… good afternoon?"

"Puppy!"

Pinching his forehead, Theron quickly glanced around. 'How long before someone screams _Kidnapper_?' he thought, as people filed past the odd group; with an occasional laugh at the situation, if they reacted at all. Garahel's proud bark snapped his attention back.

"Right… he is _not _coming with us. Take him back to where you found him."

Whining, they both ran off in the direction they had come from. Sighing, Theron looked about again and finally noticed he was in clear view of the Chantry. 'Fantastic… better try blending in with the crowds.' Avoiding the busy central stores, his concentration was disrupted by a loud call of "Fine Dwarven crafts! Direct from Orzammar!" as a corn-rowed Dwarf waved him over.

Taking a look at the stall's items, Theron glanced down as Garahel returned and hovered next to him. "Don't give me that look… A: Think about what we've fought on the road. He would have had to take up a weapon as well." Pausing as the hound whined in response, he added "B: What do you imagine Morrigan would have done, if we showed up with him?"

Making a dramatic show of flinching at the thought, Garahel sat back on his hind-quarters as his master turned back to the merchant.

"C: We stand out too much already, we don't need to spook some parents by taking children."

"I wouldn't worry too much, my friend. Plenty of your people have passed through, recently" the store attendant said, scratching his chin. "The first few were almost dragged off to the Alienage, until one of the smarter guardsmen pointed out their clothing and tattoos. A few insults were muttered back and forth, before they went down to the docks… I hear they all went north, from the tavern gossip."

"Do they always round up passing Elves, for this Alienage of theirs?"

"I've not been topside long enough to notice, but my employer did say there's been something going on lately. Possibly a riot" he shrugged, watching the throng of shoppers. "Nothing but women and children, in the market these days… you'd think we'd have better business, with all this talk of Darkspawn and rebellion – I guess all the warriors have been deployed."

"Rebellion?"

"Cloud-headed King got himself killed, so I hear… some General made himself the stand-in, while the Queen mourns. Naturally, their Assembly have been hissing and moaning about a _commoner _being above his station. Rumour has it they're talking about war, even with the sodding Blight coming… I guess Lords are raving morons, no matter what side of the surface we're on."

"You're oddly calm about it all, I must say."

"Hell, this would be just another day, back home. Asides, I'm putting away enough coin to get on-board a ship, if it comes to that." Looking at the blade Theron tapped, he nodded. "One gold, 50."

Looking at the price chart on the ground behind the Dwarf, the Warden smirked. "Keep the change, for your trip" he replied, strapping the sheath around his belt. "You should also hide that board better, before the Shemlen notice."

"Much obliged, my friend. If you need any further equipment or gossip, come back anytime" the Dwarf beamed, swapping a handful of silver from one pocket to another. "Discount for preferred customers."

"I may just need the help, depending on how well I am at navigating this place."

"Ah yeah, that's a challenge at first. I'm sure I can help, if needed. They don't call me 'Honest Leske' for nothing."

Walking away, Theron looked down at Garahel. "I'm sure they don't…" he sighed. Taking a studious look at the nearby shoppers, he quickly focused. 'That one, in the pink dress' he noted while listening to the teen-aged girl screech insults at her apparent servants. 'Oh yes, this fine specimen definitely knows where to find the lordly part of town… just hang back and follow her'. Giving a _shush_ motion to his Mabari, they waited a few moments before silently tailing Habren's procession.

* * *

Staring at the gloating Bard as she followed him into Howe's office, Loghain stifled his preferred response. "Lady… Marjolaine, was it?"

"Good afternoon, Regent Mac Tir. Thank you for meeting with me, here."

"Sit…"

"Most gracious. I simply had a few questions I wish to run by you?"

"Of course… proceed."

"Firstly, though – I wish to congratulate you on your recent advancements. It's most unfortunate that the good Arl's health has given out, though… despite the mess he created." With his only response being the continued stare, she nodded. "It's curious, though. From what I understand, you hadn't informed him of developments he missed, on the road south from Highever. Your conscription of his forces, those that somehow found themselves ordered to Ostagar instead of enforcing the peace in that particular Teyrndom."

"I thought it far more important they remain mobilised elsewhere, if needed further west."

"Good answer… very well, I know something much more important. I suspect it may be known only to us, and our respective sources." Inwardly smiling at the slight crack in his expression, Marjolaine nodded. "I'm quite aware the other Cousland son lives… the sudden weather surge made his company unable to travel the mountain passes safely, in darkness. While deciding what to do, it would seem they noticed all the signal flares coming from Howe's men. Of course, the Arl had departed after striking down the Teyrn and giving the order, already on the road home."

Smirking at Loghain's glare, she shrugged theatrically. "The few Amaranthine divisions who surrendered to the returning forces, I hear, were granted a reprieve. On the condition that they reported themselves and the news to the King… and they found you, instead. Somehow, you didn't let the Arl know… one might think you intended to offer him up for justice before the Landsmeet, should the Cousland heirs emerge from the chaos and demand his execution. Oh, I'm not judging you… I admire your ability to steer around new circumstance. I daresay he'd have done the same thing to you, after all."

"I'm so delighted to have your approval…"

"I have something else, for you. Two of my men returned early, from tracking down my target. They found a wounded man not far out from the city – luckily, they were able to sneak him past the quarantine… it would seem he's in the early stages of Blight sickness, so my Mages got him into a cell downstairs and have cleansed everything he may have touched."

"This man is important, I take it?"

"From what I could understand, he claims to have survived at Ostagar. He's been babbling about waking up, surrounded by the bodies of his ambushed scouting party. So far, he's not been lucid enough to be of much information, he just keeps babbling about 'the Witch' and 'the King will rise'. He told my men his name was… Rexel, if that means anything?"

"Does Thomas know about this?"

"Not yet… the boy has been running to and fro, trying to find a cure for his father. A fool's errand, if I recognise the symptoms correctly. I believe he's hoping to speak with some local historian, so he must be running out of people to ask."

"So long as he stays out of the way… they've caused enough trouble for me, with the Bannorn."

A knock sounded at the door, followed by a lengthy pause. "Yes?"

"Regent Loghain, sir? A messenger just arrived from the Palace."

"Enter."

A young boy walked cautiously into the room, before bowing. "Apologies, Sire. Lady Erlina thought it best you return, quickly. She says a Grey Warden has arrived, seeking an audience."

'Finally, some real answers… or I'll make this one disappear, too.'

* * *

**Redcliffe**

'Well, that was … disastrous' Alistair thought, staring down at the town from his vantage point. Spotting Aedan slowly wander up the hill, he waved a greeting. Slumping down against the windmill, the other youth sighed. "You alright?" Alistair asked.

"Fine, fine… just a little tired. Stayed up to watch the sunrise and now I'm feeling it."

"We were wondering where you ended up, last night?"

"Sorry… I just went hollow, hearing about Howe. Ended up down at the tavern, with an entire bottle of something strong. Thankfully, Leliana was still there and got me out before I could embarrass myself. So we just wandered about, down to the lake and over to the Chantry. They'd closed up by that time, so we just sat on the porch and talked."

"What, you just talked all night? That's _all _you did? "

Looking up at Alistair's cheesy grin, he shook his head. "I'm not her type, it turns out."

"She just told you that?"

"No, just going off something she said. She's _Orlesian_, if you get my drift?"

"The accent's a give-away, and… oh… you mean... that she… prefers…?"

"Yes – more importantly, though, I take back any suspicions I had about her."

"Must have been an interesting chat, for all of that?"

"What happened to me, what happened to her… how to get up and keep going after something like that... you know, just small talk. She fell asleep about 2am, I think, so I just sat back and had a lot to consider… before I really knew it, the sky started clearing so I went down to the lake and watched the sun come over the ridge. Not long after, the Mother opened up the doors… this one had no qualms about the three of us lighting some vigil candles and having a ceremony for my family."

"That's great, man" Alistair said, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"It really was… listen, Al; I might head back to the room. I need some sleep."

"Of course, go for it."

"That might not be a good idea," Kallian's voice came from behind them "the _Arlessa _was still pitching a fit, when I left."

"Don't tell me you fought again?"

"No, I just had to walk past them and she put on another show. '_Who is this woman, Eamon?! Insulting me in my own house?'_" She shook her head, mockingly. "Screeching like a rat caught in a downpipe… true class, that one."

"What's this about?" Aedan asked, kneeling forward into the grass.

"After breakfast this morning, Cailan and their uncles went off for more strategy and she took the opportunity to make a few snide jabs at Alistair. So… I may have suggested that she please shut her damned mouth and get over herself."

His head spun about from looking over the windmill lawn in shock, staring at the smirking Elf. "… yes, I imagine she took that with good grace."

"Yeah…" Alistair began, nervously rubbing his neck. "I better speak with the Arl, before we're shown to the Highway."

"Good luck" they both called out as he marched uphill. "So… he told you his history?" Aedan asked as she sat down as well.

"Finally… I think he was expecting I'd be offended, or something. His stammering was cute, though."

"I expect it usually became a big thing, if people found out when he was growing up in the Chantry. Most of the others would have been abandoned, or orphans. They'd have been bitter enough, knowing he once boarded with an Arl."

"Oh, I'm no stranger to kids turning on each other… I hope he knows he can trust me."

"He wouldn't have told you, otherwise… I didn't tell you this, but he spent the last week wanting to tell you."

"I figured as much… I decided to tease out whatever he was nervous about. He got flustered and came down here afterwards" she laughed.

"And… you're okay, with all the opening up?"

"At this point, yeah… it's not the same, and I prefer to live."

"Sorry, if that was a stupid question… and if my own damage hampers my attempts at being supportive."

"Hey… it's enough that you can even worry about the rest of us. Have you asked about a private service, at the Chantry?"

"Leliana made sure I went in, this morning. She stayed for the morning sermon, but then she actually got some sleep last night."

"I should go, as well… I need to say a prayer for my cousins, I hope they're okay."

She slowly rose up, as Aedan stretched out a yawn. "I better get some rest here, since you stirred up the banshee. If I'm still here when you come back, just kick me or something."

"I think I can manage that" she smiled, as he laid back onto the dewy grass with his hands supporting his head. 'There goes another outfit of his… he must have driven his poor mother to despair.'

* * *

_Another follower; thanks Jay, welcome aboard._


	27. Behind doors closed

**A/N - huge apology for the delay. Short version: (ex)Cyclone passed through, power was down for a few days after it, and all my spare time's been spent tidying up the mess it left, at home and work. Finally got my flow back, though**

* * *

**Orzammar**

Rubbing his brow, Brosca watched as the other Dwarf continued ranting. 'How drunk is this idiot?' Leaning over to Varric, he whispered "You know this guy?"

"Sort of – he was in Tapsters yesterday, made a right display of himself. According to the other regulars, that's to be expected."

'Great… bring a babbling soak on this mission – what could go wrong?' "Okay, I got it the first time. This woman everyone wants found is your wife, and you want to come along?"

"You'll need me, more like. I know how she'll have marked her path."

"Fine… go get whatever you need and meet us at the doors. One thing, though. We're travelling fast and light – no casks, kegs, barrels or anything like that."

"Fair enough" Oghren shrugged, before heading back the way he came.

"So now there's that guy… if he ends up too pickled to keep up, any objections to leaving him behind?"

"It would be quicker to do so now" Sten murmured with impatience.

"Given that he's waited two years without any action, I get the feeling he'd simply knock out the sentries and chase us down" Aveline replied, shaking her head.

"That wouldn't surprise me… it's done now, anyway. I remember he used to be some big-shot in House Kondrat, when I was younger. I guess we'll dry him out and see."

* * *

Much later, Brosca looked up as Varric returned. "Chased down a few odd-jobs for coin, which bought us extra water-supplies." He handed the leather flagons out amongst the group, before sitting down. "Those damned things can run."

"Let me guess – Boermor? Maybe one day he'll learn to keep his cages off the ground… still, it's a nice earner for people who need coin. Maybe that's why he still does it…" Brosca's thought was abandoned as an escort of guards arrived.

"Warden?"

"Yes?"

"We found this one, violating a formal order by carrying weapons within the city. He claims this to be under your authority?"

"He's accompanying our mission, yes."

Standing to one side, the Captain of the Guard icily watched them load up their packs. "Once again, you're in the middle of a dishonourable mess… everything lately seems to have begun with you."

Brosca forced a mocking laugh while adjusting his sheaths. "Don't worry, sir. We'll be back before you know it, so things won't get dull." Turning away from any response, he led the others through the waiting door. Once they loudly swung shut, with a faint click of the lock, the group slowly continued on into the Deep Roads.

* * *

**Denerim**

Standing silently in a corner of the darkened room, Cauthrein watched the Regent fidget in his seat. "Yes?" he finally called out, tapping at an armrest.

"The Warden was unable to tell you anything?"

"Nothing I hadn't heard… he's holding something back, though. He even repeated the same story as Duncan, claiming he was originally born here."

"I thought their Commander was a Rivaini?"

"Indeed… born in Highever. Same as this new one."

"Then they both just happened to have been raised in Orlais?" she asked, unconvinced.

"Exactly. They parrot Highever… even that recruit they had from Redcliffe mentioned Highever. Whatever their scheme was, everything comes back to Highever. Perhaps Howe was right… we'll see what this Riordan knows after a few days in a cell. It took five guards, but I had him knocked out and taken away."

Frowning, he motioned at the door right as a light knocking sounded from the other side. A soldier entered, offering a quick salute. "Apologies, Sire. Another Grey Warden has arrived at the gates, seeking an audience.

"Unbelievable… is this one from Highever?"

"I … don't believe so, Sire. He looks like one of those wild Elves."

"… That Dalish recruit of theirs… maybe an _actual _native son can tell me something. Send him in, quickly."

As the guard departed, Loghain turned back to his Second. "I don't think we have to worry about this one, but be ready – he looked like a fighter."

* * *

**Redcliffe**

Drying off his face, Aedan hung the wash-rag over the edge of the bucket. "So what made you move, the ants or the flies?" Alistair asked, "I thought you'd have been out there longer."

"The sun got higher in the sky… right into my eyes. I might need a few hours in the afternoon, but I'm fresh enough for now. What is the plan, today?"

"Good question – I suppose it all depends on whatever Eamon's got Cailan cornered about."

"It could be worse, you know."

"How's that?"

"Eamon could have _you_ holed up, rambling about statecraft."

"Not likely… not unless he thinks I need a reminder about my standing."

"Joking aside, I just have to say it – a flying Anders pack would probably have been a better choice to raise you. The only credit I can give the Arl is that he didn't have you beaten."

"It wasn't that bad…"

Sighing, Aedan sat down. "Somebody got something right with you, that you can forgive him so easily. Let's talk about something else… how did you join the Wardens?"

* * *

"Hopefully you're right, and he was merely waylaid en route."

"It's just getting less likely… he knew Eamon still has all his forces, Duncan should have come here, by now, to organise a new strategy."

"Unless he's gone to meet the other Wardens, you said they were preparing… assuming the Queen didn't inherit her father's attitude toward Orlais, they can't be far."

"Maybe – that wouldn't bode well for you, since you once forced her to dance a gigue."

"I needed another person to make sure I never forget about that. Thanks."

"I'm just filling the position until Denerim. There should be plenty of Nobles to remind you when you and Cailan speak with them."

"Right after I denounce Howe, take up the title, give a few dozen speeches, restore anything he's ruined in the city…"

"We just have to stab a giant dragon to death… you could always grab a weapon and come with us."

"I'm wondering which is best… " Aedan said, rubbing his temple. "I never imagined having to worry about it, and now that's all I can do."

"You don't need to tell me, I know all about 'heirs and spares'… put me in the same situation, I'd probably try to defer the position to Eamon."

"Sorry if I'm sounding stupid about this, though. When this is done, if Duncan… doesn't turn up, won't you have to be the Commander for Ferelden?"

"I'm not sure – I imagine he already had a replacement arranged, since he thought his Calling would be soon."

"Calling?"

"Oh – he'd have to go… report to Weisshaupt. With the travel time, a new Commander usually takes over" Alistair offered. "Just another Warden tradition, I really don't know much about it. Either way, I'll see about a monument for him. He came from Highever, I think, maybe I'll put something up there."

"When this is all done, come with me. I'll see something worthy arranged."

"So, we're all off to Highever" Kallian said, standing in the doorway. "You know, if the King ever calms down and makes a decision."

"She still doesn't get the 'knocking' thing" Alistair joked, standing to offer her the chair.

"Only because you didn't lock the door" Aedan replied.

"Doesn't seem like anyone here uses their lock" she smiled. "Getting into the Arl's study was much too easy."

"Why?"

"The door opened right up – if you mean 'why the study?'… I was bored. Might be the last chance to look around, too. If those two keep yelling at each other about whatever it is, I expect we'll be _asked _to leave in a day or so."

"Hmm, I might go peruse the library while I still can" Aedan said. Reaching into the bucket, he pulled out a handful of flowers and gave them a quick wipe down.

"I think it's a bit late to curry favour with Isolde" Alistair told him with a grin.

"They'd probably shrivel in her hand, you know… I found them earlier. I'm pretty sure these are the right ones… just a 'thank you' for the Sister, she's listened to my problems more than enough and even resisted the need to tell me to shut up."

"Fair enough… and yet nobody ever brings me anything. Where's my gift?" the Warden asked.

"Actually, I got you something" Kallian answered. "The study wasn't a total waste of time."

'Sounds like my cue to exit' Aedan thought, shutting the door behind him as she pulled a silver amulet from her pocket.

* * *

Finally picking a book from the shelves, he sat down at one of the tables. 'Looks like an account about Eamon driving the Orlesian governor out of Redcliffe – must have been at the very end of the Rebellion, I thought he was too young to have been involved.' Before he could open the book, someone dropped onto the neighbouring seat.

"Are you the circus man?" Connor asked, staring up at him.

'Oh right, that thing… back in character' "That's me, young ser. Or it was, I haven't travelled with them for almost five years."

"Do you know if they'll be in Ferelden this year?"

"I believe it's near time the circuit brought them back, but with everything happening at the moment they may postpone things."

Tilting his head, Connor moved closer. "I know Father has been inspecting his soldiers a lot lately, but nobody's told me why. What things are delaying them?"

'You know – betrayal, death, Darkspawn…' "I'm not entirely sure; I've just been hearing rumours while travelling."

"What about?"

"Connor, I believe lunch will almost be ready. You can take a break from your studies, for now" Bann Teagan called out, sitting at another table loaded with books.

Nodding, the boy ran out of the room as Teagan walked over. "Pardon his questions, he's been inside most of the day… without a replacement tutor, I've been trying to keep his lessons going. It seems I'm not an interesting teacher, though."

"That's quite fine, my lord."

Watching the younger man intently, the Bann nodded. "Apart from the meal last night, have you enjoyed your stay?"

"Yes, thank you" Aedan replied carefully, noticing the scrutiny.

"Would you care for a shave? I could ask one of the servants to give you a neat one."

"It has gotten a little messy, on the road. I would appreciate that, meserre."

"I thought so… it makes the family resemblance rather obvious. Especially compared with Fergus" Teagan mused.

"You know" Aedan shrugged, dropping the accent. "I did not even _think_ about that. Would have been a dead give-away in the north."

"Or Denerim… I think Howe's installed himself there, rather than risk the road again."

"At least it will be quicker to have him hurled into the lowest depths of Drakon."

"Deservedly so – if we can get Cailan and Eamon to stop bickering and make the journey already."

"My apolo…"

Teagan waved him down. "No need, my friend. I do not think anyone can blame you, for being careful… still; we should probably make sure not to mention it to Isolde. She's already on edge, with Alistair's presence and your Elven friend's blunt honesty."

"So I've heard… that necklace would probably set her off, as well."

"Necklace?"

"Some silver thing, it looked rather old. I gave a thank-you gift to the other lady in our group, and Alistair made a joke about not getting anything. Kallian pulled the chain out of her pocket and handed it to him – she said she took it from the study, but I expect she was joking."

"That _was_ in the study, last I saw it after being repaired. She gave it to Alistair?"

"Yes..."

"Don't worry about it, then. It's exactly where it should be" the Bann smiled, before pointing to the doorway. "Like I said, lunch will be ready shortly. Let's go see what today's offering is."


	28. The fun table

**Just a Redcliffe chapter, this time. I don't know if I nailed Eamon... still, I can't imagine he'd place much value in Alistair if Cailan lived.**

* * *

Slipping away as Teagan began talking to Elric, Aedan slumped into the seat next to Alistair. "Not using their table this time?" the Warden asked, slightly confused.

"I imagine it's full, since their son's awake this time… plus, I'd rather not risk the Arl being as attentive as his brother – Teagan noticed the family resemblance, thanks to my recent lack of shaving."

"I guess that makes _me _the well-groomed one, now."

"So I see… looks like she poured an entire bucket over your head."

"More or less – she wasn't going to give up until she was satisfied with it. Naturally, that was right when Elric walked in with a message."

"You still hadn't used the lock?"

"I couldn't find a bolt… knowing Isolde; she probably prefers that the servant quarters can't keep people out."

"Yeah, true… what did Elric say?"

"He just shook his head, and told us lunch was almost ready. And not to forget my shirt… she insisted I take it off first. Is that weird?"

"Only if you prefer the shirt got drenched while washing your hair."

"Oh, of course… I didn't think about that."

"That's a little paranoid, though... let me guess: when you were in your Chantry, the Sisters kept finding excuses for you to be shirtless? A lot of wood-chopping?"

"Ha… ha… I did get stuck on kitchen duty a lot, that was about it. Maybe things are less stringent in Kirkwall – did _you_ get paraded about in your pants?"

Leliana slid into a chair opposite, watching them. "Don't let me interrupt" she grinned when the conversation dropped off.

"Interrupt what?" Kallian asked, taking the remaining chair at the small table.

"They were comparing apparel standards at their assigned Chantries, more or less."

Quickly wanting the focus away from him, Alistair nodded to the other man. "He had some weird ideas about my teachers, I guess the ones in Kirkwall made him parade about the Chantry without a shirt."

"Not the Chantry" Aedan replied. "I… may have lost a bet with Varric, in the Hanged Man one night. A heavy storm meant a heavy crowd stuck inside, so we flipped a coin to see who had to help speed things up… I had to ditch my shirt, and carry drinks to the women. He and Norah split my tips, naturally, and Corff wanted advance notice 'next time' so he could bill it as a Ladies Night. Varric told him we'd think about it, after we came back from… anyway, Alistair, you didn't actually say how much wood-splitting the Sisters made you do."

He shook his head, and tried for another distraction with Leliana. "I believe I did, actually… what about the Lothering Chantry? That Revered Mother sure seemed stiff, probably had anyone who wasn't utterly frozen shipped off somewhere else."

"You would be wrong, if you think there were no warm women. There were many lovely young initiates in the Lothering cloister… quite chaste and virtuous." Her attention drifted for a moment, before continuing "Ah, it added to their mystique."

Dropping the goblet he had been filling at the bench behind them, Cailan quickly retrieved one that had been poured earlier and retreated to the main table. As Leliana and Kallian spun about at the noise, Alistair gave Aedan a quick nod. 'So, he was right about her.' Shrugging with acceptance in return, the younger man took a sip from his own mug.

* * *

'Well, that's just an utter waste' Cailan thought glumly, taking the chair between Teagan and Elric. "Sorry about that, Eamon. I wasn't paying attention, and lost my grip."

Nodding tersely, the Arl took a quick bite. "I understand, there's a lot you have to think about it."

Swallowing a groan, his nephew nodded back. 'There he goes again…' "Perhaps you're right, about this needing to be settled at the soonest. I think it may be prudent to ride out this afternoon, since the weather's holding steady."

"You should wait until morning, so I can travel with you" Eamon replied, his expression hardening in preparation against any argument.

"I thought you could use the peace and quiet, and send word to the Bannorn that a special Landsmeet will be held…"

"I can do so today, while the carriages are prepared."

'And his teeth are locked in… fantastic' "As you say, Uncle."

"Very well, then."

"Preparations will be easier if we're not playing host" Isolde said, glancing pointedly at Alistair. "No doubt such a _valued_ Warden has other business, as well."

'And people call _Anora_ a bitch?' "I'll enquire about his plans, Highness" Elric offered neutrally as he stood.

* * *

"Good joke, I assume?" he asked, looking down at the four as they supressed their laughter.

"They challenged me to name twenty cheeses… what did I get up to, before you all sabotaged me with your giggling?"

"42 or so…" Aedan replied, shrugging. "How's the conversation at the fun table?"

"More politics… it's quite joyous" Elric muttered with a faint smile. "Speaking of which… since we're heading off to Denerim tomorrow, Lady Vanity sounds about ready to show you the door."

"She'll probably burst if she restrains herself much longer… I'll start gathering my things once lunch is over."

Nodding, Elric quickly glanced at Isolde before offering the Warden a smirk. "Pace it out… I'm betting she's torn between getting you out, and throwing a tantrum if you leave the table before being dismissed."

Snorting, Kallian tossed over some grapes. "You better chew those slowly, lest you choke. One at a time, too… just to be safe."

"She speaks wisely" the Guardsman added, before returning to the other table.

Eying a plucked grape, Alistair looked about the table. "It's a fair point, though… Brosca might take a while, but we should have heard from Anders or Theron by now. It's been roughly three weeks, all up – we need to get things moving."

"Brosca was the Dwarf, yes?" Leliana asked.

"That's right… Faren, but everyone in the Warden Camp kept getting that mixed up with Theron, so he gave up and asked we just use his surname instead."

"And then you've got 'Anders'" Aedan commented. "Either that's similar as well, or his name is something _really_ embarrassing like… I don't know, Ergo. "

"Ergo?" Alistair asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"You pick something, then."

"… Orko?"

"Ah, we're skipping straight to gibberish names… how about Schmendrick?" Leliana offered.

Groaning, Kallian shook her head. "Maker help your future children…"

"I'm very good at names, I'll have you know" Aedan coughed with fake outrage. "That's why I named my dog 'Rabbit'. He used to rab-bite anyone who questioned his glorious name, too."

Burying her face in her hands, she muttered under her breath while Alistair pushed his plate to one side. "Their table's getting cleared… I guess time's up."

* * *

As they stood to one side, allowing the servants to carry away their plates, Cailan approached the conversation. "I guess it's that time, Alistair?"

"So it would seem, Your Majesty. Once I've met with the others, I'll head to Denerim. That should give you enough time to address the lords."

"Yes… and you two, of course" he replied, looking to Aedan and Kallian. "There are a few things that need to be set right, so you might just arrive in time for the Landsmeet."

"That's hardly my place" Alistair said nervously. "I had the impression everyone knew that."

"So Eamon tells me… did you hear that often, when you were here?"

"Oh, it was made quite apparent."

Stiffening, Cailan looked over his shoulder at his relatives. "Sounds about right, knowing them… I wasn't privy until well after that one encounter we had as children, but… well, I still don't why he chose to leave you here, but _anywhere _else would have been better. For how much our father spoke about trusting them, the Couslands would have been a far better choice."

"I…"

"Look…I'm not sure what else I'm trying to say, but I'm sorry. If that's even worth anything."

"… I never expected to hear anything like that – not from someone other than Teagan, but… thanks. I guess Eamon felt a responsibility to my mother."

"I didn't think he even knew her?" Cailan muttered in confusion.

"Maybe not by name, but still…"

"Alistair, can we talk?" Eamon called across the room, watching their conversation with a stern gaze.

"Here comes the 'time to shove off' speech" the younger brother shrugged, before walking over.

"Which means I better get ready, myself" Leliana nodded. "I'll get my pack, and come say a quick farewell."

"She's really committed to helping them, isn't she?" Cailan said, as she left.

"Beyond any doubt" Aedan agreed. "I guess a vision is a pretty powerful impetus."

Walking back to the huddle, Alistair offered a handshake to Aedan. "I guess you'll be a Teyrn, next time we meet… I probably won't be fit to shake your hand."

"Forget that!" he replied. "Once you save the country, make _sure_ to shove it all back in Eamon's pompous face."

"At the very least" Kallian added emphatically, giving the Warden a quick hug.

"Good luck, out there" Cailan simply offered, shaking Alistair's hand as well.

"Don't shake too much… he'll probably give you the 'bastard' lecture as well, if you're looking overly friendly."

Sighing, Cailan noticed he was getting a warning look from the Arl. "Too bad for him, we need to go double-check our supplies" Elric said, walking over. "I spoke with the Bann, my lord" he continued, turning to Aedan. "Perhaps you should hold off on shaving – or just have a light trim in Denerim. The more you look like a Cousland, the better."

"You told Teagan?"

"He put it together… between the inherited facial over- growth, and my reaction to hearing about Howe, I guess it was rather obvious."

"He must have gotten the brains in the family" Kallian all but spat, watching the Arl.

Rubbing his chin, a strange look came over Cailan's face. "Rather than spring it on him, perhaps you should let Eamon know the situation now" he suggested to Aedan. "See what advice he can give you, before we leave tomorrow."

"That seems a fair idea... I'll speak with him now."

"I managed to avoid details, but made it clear you're to be considered my guest" Cailan explained to Kallian.

"You may still get odd looks" Elric noted. "To be blunt, they may suspect that you're not _just_ his guest – if you get my meaning."

Giving another snort, she nodded. "Oh, they've failed to hide their reactions ever since we got here. I've quite the nerve, being a commoner and all. You'd think the Arl would be more worried about the servants, what with Alistair reminding him of all that."

"Servants?"

"Alistair's mother – she worked here."

"Fio… of course. I forgot about that part."

"_He _didn't… letting your brother sleep in the stable."

Frowning, Cailan looked over as Aedan approached the Arl. "Something else I forgot… we had better go over our supplies while there's still light, in case we need to visit the town stores."

'Half-brothers or not, they were getting much too familiar… I must remind Cailan against that' the Arl mused, looking at the approaching merchant.

"Excuse me, Arl Eamon?"

"Yes, young man?"

"Is there somewhere we can talk in private? This is… well, it's something you should hear before we depart."

"He talks normally, now" Connor remarked, having walked up behind them.

Shooting his son a warning look, Eamon sighed. "Hasn't your mother told you enough, about accents?" Turning back, he nodded. "Come, my study will be adequate."

Sitting down, he watched the younger man try to mask his nervousness. "My apologies, about Connor. He may not joke about his mother's accent anymore, but clearly he hasn't learnt that same regard for others. Especially since you made the effort to adjust to our local one so soon."

"… yes, about that – well, I'm at ease with Fereldan."

Offering a glass of water, the Arl nodded. "So I can tell. What did you need to tell me, that you think it'll be easier to hear in the native tongue?"

Squirming forward in his chair, Aedan sighed. "Well… here's the thing…"

* * *

Shaking the empty rum bottle, Eamon pushed the half-full mug across the desk. Aedan carefully lifted it, "So… I suppose that's the whole story until now."

"… I want to call it 'unbelievable'…" the Arl murmured.

"But it oddly seems just like Howe, with hindsight. Scorpion had enough of the frog."

"It seems the chaos has spread to their minds… both of them. We need to bring this to light."

Draining his drink, Aedan jerkily nodded. "I hope my silence about this didn't offend, I just… my idea of trust is kind of twisted."

As they exited into the corridor, the Arl shook his head. "I can understand that… the Elven girl, is she from Highever too? I've been unable to get any answer from Cailan about her."

"Denerim… that's a whole other thing, you know?" Aedan replied, feeling the rum taking hold.

'Another mess with Urien's idiot son, I'm guessing… what next, is Wulff going to convert to the Qunari?' Taking a quick glance out of a window as they passed, Eamon stopped and frowned at the pre-dusk sun. "I guess our talk took longer than expected… Cailan insisted you speak with me, didn't he?"

"He chained… sorry, changed his mind after lunch. Before that, he wasn't sure about it."

"… Stay here, I better see why he didn't join us." Quickening his pace, Eamon marched out to the courtyard. 'Was it just a distraction to avoid another talk about the Landsmeet, or…' Spotting the stable-master, directing the apprentices on how to prepare the carriages, he waved the man over.

"Has my nephew returned from his shopping? I believe he needed extra supplies."

Shuffling hesitantly, the stable-master grimaced. "My lord, they never went to the town… he and his guard, they came out to farewell the Wardens – so I thought, until they all took horses. They departed, about two hours ago."

* * *

_Dopey Mage-Name segment... what can I say, I'm a sucker for 80s Fantasy. Bonus nerd points if you know all three.  
_


	29. Revelation

_Still here - just been sick as a dog, and the two chapters I wrote while on medication needed to be scrapped and redone. The ambush fight read even worse, so jumping to the aftermath (saving my fight ideas for the Archdemon)... "if I skip something, it played out like the game" - I don't like repeating something we've all played through.  
_

* * *

**Redcliffe**

Jolting awake, Aedan looked around the room in confusion. 'Wasn't I in the hallway?' Noticing Isolde and a servant, he slowly rose into a sitting position on the bench. "Lady Isolde?"

"You were found, slumped in a corner. Rather than let my son come across such a display, I thought you would be more comfortable in my sitting room."

"My apologies… I must have misjudged my limit."

The servant handed him a goblet, full of a dirty-looking concoction, before bowing to the Arlessa. "I understand you spoke with my husband for some time, and then he rode off in a mood… bad news, or another situation caused by his nephew?"

"Honestly, Arlessa" he sighed, "maybe both, but I'm thinking you should hear my story as well."

Showing no reaction to his slip between accents, she nodded. "Better to hear it last, than in snippets of gossip."

"Starting with the obvious, I'm not from Kirkwall…"

* * *

Watching in stunned silence, Isolde finally rose from her chair and bolted the door. Briefly pacing the room, she sat down next to Aedan. "Your parents were the only nobles who even made an effort with me, in the early days. You probably came on some of their visits here."

"One, that I can remember…" having drained the goblet, he sat it on the armrest. "I'm sorry for any offense, not being forthcoming about all this."

Shaking her head, she pointed at an end-table. "There's another serving of the mixture, if you need it… Eamon's got a habit of dosing people, to make sure he wrings out every bit behind unpleasant news. The kitchen staff quickly learnt a remedy, in response. Just stick to bland food until morning, though, and chew slowly."

"Thank you…"

"When you came here, the first time you mentioned – how was that?"

"… Mostly pleasant, from what I can remember. I was too young to join most of the activities, so I spent most of the days running about the grounds… my little entourage."

Smiling hesitantly, she nodded. "You must have been the boy who paired up with Alistair on his slow days. I remember watching, one afternoon; from a window... it was odd, seeing him be just another child." Getting no response, she sighed. "Surprised that I'd say as much? His situation has never been handled correctly, by anybody. I'm guessing you know all of that?"

"Just what he's told me."

"I see… I expect that he's honest about it, for one." Shaking her head once, she looked at her guest sadly.

"Arlessa?"

"Too long…" she muttered, before shrugging. "You're not the only one who can mask their speech" she added, in a near-native Fereldan accent. "Only my husband and Teagan even know… but I'm just weary of all this, so I hope you'll hear me out." Spinning about to properly face her, Aedan nodded silently.

"I'm sure you've heard the story – Eamon returned to drive out my family at the end of the Rebellion, and I stayed with him… he may have gone back to Orlais, but my father still had people in place. When he realised I had no intention of passing on anything I might hear from Eamon's relatives, he shifted to subtle needling before he died. He even sent 'guests' to visit, so it would seem I still had cross-border sympathies. Apart from your parents, most of the Landsmeet already resented me so it just reinforced their feelings… I saved them the trouble and withdrew from those circles."

Trying to remain composed, she took a moment to look at several paintings on the walls. "I had almost adjusted to the routine, but then Alistair appeared… it's ridiculous now, the resemblance is obvious, but I had grown bitter and Eamon never actually told me the truth about his parentage. No doubt, he had vowed to Maric he'd not mistreat the boy, he just silently enjoyed watching me do it for him because of my suspicions. When he started growing, I noticed the similarities between him and a portrait of Cailan and I finally began to wonder… I just wanted the poor boy to have a better future than a stable-hand, when I got the truth out of Eamon. The Chantry was all I could think of, I didn't know his lack of education would mean he'd become a Templar… much less a Warden."

"But you're still cold to him now. I don't understand."

"Eamon's the closest he ever had to a father figure, and if he learns that faint warmth was only in case of Alistair somehow being in line for the throne… he doesn't need to know _everyone _he thought to trust abandoned him. Let him hate me for it, I'm quite good at being despised... it's the only thing that keeps my brother from resuming our father's old tricks or something even worse, thinking there's no point. But for all my hiding behind walls, things keep getting worse…"

"We're not beyond hope yet" Aedan offered.

"I'd like to agree… but I don't even have hope for Connor's future" she sobbed, grabbing his arm. "Especially if we can't trust the Teyrn anymore… he knows too much."

Utterly confused, he pulled the older woman into a side-on hug. "From what I've seen, your son will be fine – he has the eyes of someone who beat anything put in his path."

"But he can't… that's the problem! I don't know what to do anymore…Eamon, he won't forgive me if I finally tell him. I only wanted to be happy… didn't I deserve that?"

"I thought everyone did, my Lady… now I'm wondering if we ever get what we deserve. Perhaps the scholars were right, when they proclaimed this would be an Age of upheaval. "

A light tap sounded at the door, followed by someone asking "My Lady? Ser Perth says they've returned."

"Thank you, Valena. I shall be there shortly." Standing up, she breathed in as her face changed to its usual mask. "Thank you as well, Aedan... shall we go play our parts?"

"My lady… you shouldn't have to carry all of this. It's not right."

"Dear boy… it is what it is." Patting his shoulder, she gave one last faint smile. "I hope you return to Kirkwall, when this is done. Maybe _you _will find something you deserve." With that, she left the room and returned to being the Arlessa.

* * *

**Near Lothering**

Sitting under a tree, Theron absently scratched behind Garahel's ear as he watched the road. "I don't suppose you can smell them, boy?" Whining softly, the hound made no other reaction. 'I wonder if the Teyrn's still waiting for me… poor doorman had barely gotten inside when Neria swooped down, ordering me back to camp.' Hearing Morrigan still pace around her tent, he sighed. 'She was right, too… that stupid book has rattled her.'

Shaking away his hand, Garahel raced down to the road and stared at the hill as three figures appeared in the distance. "About time…" his master stiffly rose and nodded at the nervous Witch.

"I've never heard of a carrier pigeon that doubles as a guide" Anders called out as he approached. "Had a little Demon trouble at the Tower, but nothing we couldn't handle. That's my treaty seen to, at least. You?"

"Had some Werewolf complications, but the Dalish treaty is in motion. They'll spread word to any other Clans still around."

"Seems I miss all the fun" Carver lightly grumbled, shaking off his pack. "This sounded important, though."

"You might say that" Theron said, looking back at the hill. "Didn't you mention your friend… Wynne?"

"We lost her on the road… Gregoir and the First Enchanter caught up to us, in their wagons. All hush-hush, but sounds like something big in Redcliffe required their attention so they talked her into going along."

"Redcliffe… wasn't that where Alistair was going?"

"Perhaps the fool has lived up to his prediction, about slaughtering a priestess and stripping down to his smalls" Morrigan sneered, joining the group. "I shall hope not, that hindrance is only worth it if we get to actually watch."

"So anyway" Neria cut in, suppressing a grin "I found Anders and…"

"Carver", he offered, sighing.

"Carver, so here we are…I'll let you explain the situation, if you're still sure about this?"

Looking at Morrigan, the Elven Warden nodded. "I'm in… but I'll need the rest of you."

Anders scratched his head, looking around the group. "I'm not going to like this, am I? Let's hear it."

"We're going to kill Flemeth."

"… okay, what's the punch-line?"

"Something in that book you obtained" Morrigan answered carefully.

"I see… now I'm really glad I didn't read it."

"You're all mad… just throwing that out there now" Carver remarked, breaking the silence.

"Can we take her, with this few?" Anders asked, as his eyes weighed things up.

"If we're quick, five will suffice" Theron replied. "If you keep us on our feet, we've got Neria's magic and I can get in close with my daggers. Carver's sword should get her attention at first, if you're in?"

"I never thought I'd be hunting a Mage… "

"Neither did I" Anders offered, as Neria nodded.

"If this is so important… fine, I'm in. Still, this seems excessive – cutting down some crazy old swamp-lady… how much trouble can she be?"

Getting a focused glare from Neria, Morrigan swallowed her response and simply added "I shall remain here, then, and hope for the best."

"We'll head out shortly… the sooner it's done, the sooner we can get back to the Blight" Theron finished, pointing to the tree-line. "There's a stream back there, if you need water."

Finding his own patch of shade, Carver slumped down. "Wait… if she's staying here, we don't have five." Looking up at a low snarl, he noticed the Mabari staring at him. "Hey boy… what's wrong?" Still staring, it ignored the strip of dried meat he held out. "No? Alright, then" he shrugged, biting into it. "At least we'll travel faster with just four." Huffing with annoyance, Garahel turned and walked off in umbrage. "Another one, I see… don't _any_ Mabari like me?"

* * *

**Redcliffe**

Standing in the main hall, Aedan watched uneasily as Kallian slid beside him against the wall. "I was watching from a window… horses and some wagons arrived, with another wagon some distance behind them, couldn't see who's who in this light. What's happened?"

"I'm not sure…" he began, as the doors opened. Eamon marched in, followed by Cailan and a number of Redcliffe guards. Turning to his nephew with a scowl, the Arl hissed something under his breath before Cailan slowly nodded and walked off to the guest-chambers. Noticing the two youths, Eamon paced over. "Good luck" Kallian whispered, slipping away quietly.

"Insanity..." he muttered, before looking Aedan in the face. "Those Dwarves out there claim to know you – you should go meet with them, while I try to make sense of the rest of this… please, use the servant's entrance when you return. I fear I shall not see much rest tonight, whatever has brought those new arrivals must be serious…"

Passing the wagons, Aedan didn't see anyone he recognised among the darkness. Calling out, Kallian caught up to him from another direction. "Took the long way, in case his Lordship didn't want me out here. There are some armoured men; skulking on the far side of a wagon… they don't look like guards to me. Any sign of the others?"

"Not yet… ah" he pointed to a wagon off by itself, as someone hopped down with a lit torch. "I think that's Bodahn." Walking over, his guess proved to be correct.

"… It's a shame, truly."

"Bodahn?"

He pointed solemnly to one of the wagons, as a body was lifted down. "We came across this group, amongst the aftermath. From what I understand, an ambush was launched on your friends. Luckily, the local guards reached them in time."

Kallian strode to where it lay, as Aedan turned to notice two figures being dragged away by soldiers.

"Seems they captured those two, alive" Bodahn noted, turning back as Kallian returned.

Before Aedan could ask, she shook her head painfully. "Ser Elric…"

"Your other friends were in the first wagon" the Dwarven merchant said. "I believe they just require healing" he added, seeing their faces sink. They both nodded and spun about into a run.

"We'll check you again in the morning, if you need, but just try to rest tonight" they heard someone say as they approached. Stepping down from the wagon, Leliana thanked the robed woman. "I shall try, at least." Turning, she noticed the others. "They're still working on Alistair, give them time."

Aedan finally got a clear look at the nearby people, thanks to the torch-light. "Mages?"

"I have no idea why they arrived, but it was a near thing…" Leliana replied. Noticing the frown she was receiving from the healer, she nodded. "We'll have to talk about this later, she's starting to glare." Sliding under a shoulder to support the Bard's weight, Kallian helped her slowly walk over to the servant's entrance.

"What happened?" Aedan muttered to himself, noticing the small contingent of Templars as they idled near the castle steps.

"I'm not entirely sure, young man – if you were asking me?" the silver-locked Mage commented. "Wynne, of the Circle."

"Just Wynne?"

"So I was told."

"Another fellow member of the Just family" Alistair said groggily, as he slid down from the wagon. "Must be a Chantry thing" he added, as one of the nearby Redcliffe guards appeared.

"Easy, Alistair" he said, offering a walking crutch. "Do you need some help?"

"I think I'll make it… oh, Ser Donall. Thank you."

Raising an eyebrow as he hobbled away, Wynne turned to the soldier. "You should go with him, regardless." Nodding, Donall followed.

"So, does his remark make you a Just as well?" she asked, turning back to the younger man.

"Cousland, actually" he said absently, watching the Warden surrender his crutch as two guards aided him to a doorway.

"Cous… my lord!" Wynne bowed, as he turned back in shock.

"Please, don't do that! I'm hardly worth it…"

Sniffing at his breath, her eyes narrowed. "Not if you're going to drown yourself in a bottle, at your age."

"It's a long story… ma'am."

"Gossiped versions are spreading… if they're true, you don't have the luxury of self-pity."

Laughing harshly, he shook his head. "No, you clearly don't believe in pity… and my luxuries died with my family."

"If this is your idea of conversation, child, I suggest you hold your tongue until morning."

"No thanks, good lady… I've mourned enough to not need instructions. Good evening to you."

Climbing the stairs, he snuck through the main door and headed for the side-corridor before he noticed Teagan standing against a wall. The Bann motioned for silence, and waved Aedan over. As he followed in confusion, the Arl's voice roared from the study.

"This is _preposterous_!"

"Perhaps it is" an elderly voice croaked, "but his name was mentioned more than once, when we searched through Uldred's correspondence."

Another voice, more authoritative, rose up. "As Knight-Commander, I _will_ see my duty done… and you _will_ allow us to test the boy, tomorrow."

"They're hounding him, at _this_ hour, for some local boy?" Aedan whispered in surprise as the voices faded with distance.

"No… they're demanding we submit Connor for inspection" Teagan answered under his breath. "Has everyone outside of Redcliffe gone insane?"

* * *

**_Fair point, Guest - it's on the list, just need to re-do them. _**


	30. Escalation

**More AU shuffling, for other characters. Slowly getting to everyone. (Even the established parties... since the Deep Roads take a while to reach anything, that group were intentionly out of focus)**

* * *

**Denerim**

'I wish she'd stop smirking the whole time' Loghain thought, leaning against a wall as Marjolaine searched through various containers piled across the desk.

"I notice someone's had 'Wanted' posters put up through the city, for Grey Wardens. Has something changed?" she asked, flashing another smile.

"One was skulking around the city, and tried getting inside the Palace. He vanished when the guard consulted the watch-captain, for reasons unknown… I understand Howe's _methods _have not gotten answers out of the Warden downstairs, so I remain in the dark as to their plans. It's been three months; clearly they're up to more than ratifying treaties…"

"I may have something to loosen his tongue, amongst these… ah, here's what you want. Passionflower, correct?"

"So I was told."

"Hmm… be sure they know the proper preparation."

"She does – her own stock has been exhausted, the last few weeks."

With another smirk, Marjolaine slid it across the desk. "I shall hope this extra supply helps keep the Queen calm, instead of thinking too much… about what happened, that is."

'Damn your smart mouth…' Grabbing the package, Loghain curtly nodded. Before he responded, an outbreak of noise came from the main hallway. They reached the courtyard as Thomas marched in, followed by a small group of guards who dragged an unconscious man. "Throw him in the cells!" he barked, before noticing the Teyrn. "Some assistant… I went back to see if the Brother had learnt anything new, in case he can help Father. He went berserk when I approached a side-room to find the Brother's notes, and attacked us. Luckily, my guards overwhelmed him… we'll see what he really knows about this."

Marjolaine shrugged, without second thought she added "I've yet to hear of an antidote to what your father somehow got himself poisoned with, but it's your time to waste."

"Why would you even have something that can't be cured?" Thomas sniffed, glaring back at the Bard.

"Because some customers wish to be sure, young man. I was led to understand your father and the Regent were of such opinion, regarding the intended target."

"He did let slip that Genitivi had gone to Calenhad village, perhaps he's consulting with Mage specialists… I already dispatched a group of soldiers to seek him out."

'Or he's off, wasting more of his life looking for those Ashes' Loghain mused, before he nodded a farewell and left the Estate. 'Knowing that woman, I had better let Erlina inspect these before we even think about serving them to Anora… hopefully it's enough until she can obtain more. '

* * *

**The Deep Roads**

"That's enough, you two" Brosca called over his shoulder, trying to focus on dicing his food. Hearing the argument continue, he sighed and spun about on his heels. "Shut! Up!"

Briefly nodding, Sten walked away to the small cave's entrance to stand watch, while Aveline began unloading her pack in silent umbrage. Turning to Varric, the Warden groaned. "Remind me again, how did I get stuck with this group?"

"The same way I did, remember?"

"Bah! Ignore both those sodding cloud-heads, Warden. You made the right call, with that Blighted boy… either his body would have slowly shut down on him, or he'd become a ghoul" Oghren muttered, dropping down next to the other Dwarves. "At least the big guy understands mercy- her, on the other hand, was liable to bring the Darkspawn down on us if she kept complaining about it much longer." Taking another look at Aveline, he sneered. "Noisy thing, isn't she? Still… I bet I could teach her some new sounds."

"True… she may look tough, but there's always a first time for her to screech _Get away from me!_ in panic" Varric replied, retrieving some dried meat from his pack.

"Now that's just mean…" Oghren moaned, before producing a flask. "How about it, Warden? Join me in a drink?"

"No thanks, I don't drink?"

"At all? How are you still walking?"

"If you met my mother, you'd know why not…"

Giving him a stern look, Oghren shook his head. "Spare me the sodding parent issues, Warden! Everyone's got them… and honestly, get over it. I've seen you and your sister – what, exactly, do you think she had to do in order to make sure the two of you turned out so well?"

"Cleaning smoke vents…"

"You really think that was all? Plenty of Casteless do that, and how many of their brats turn out smart and healthy like you? Short sodding list, I can tell you that much!" Looking into the distance, he added "Needing a tipple to deal with bad memories is better than letting them beat you… trust me."

"Hrmm…" Without further reply, Brosca grabbed the flask and took a sip. Coughing violently, he sprayed it out and wiped furiously at his mouth.

"Oh yeah… that's not something for first-timers" Oghren laughed. "You lasted five seconds, though. Not a bad effort."

"I'll keep that in mind" was the gasping response, as Sten approached.

"I believe the spiders have regrouped… you had better be able to stand."

* * *

**Redcliffe**

Snapping awake, Aedan tried to sit up before he flopped back onto the bed. 'My head!… oh right, drinking with my Arl buddy.'

"Easy, young man. I expect your body won't be moving that fast just yet." Looking over at the voice, he noticed a Mage examining Alistair.

"So last night did happen… wait, are you talking to him or me?"

"You, actually – I put your friend back to sleep, as he still needs rest. You can deal with your own affliction, though."

"Right… now I remember you. Sorry about my behaviour… Wynne?"

"Wynne."

"Just Wynne… do they always bring a procession this big, for a Mage hunt?"

"Word spreads quickly."

"Hopefully not… no, after I was done insulting you last night, I overheard the Arl speaking with some people."

"Irving thought a larger group was prudent… since this is a first, we don't exactly have a protocol for calling upon a Lord like this."

"Never, at all?"

"Supposedly, our newest Enchanter came from a wealthy family in Kirkwall… but the less copied from their methods, the better."

"Everybody just loves Meredith, don't they…" noticing her reaction, Aedan explained "I spent two years up there, so I know all about her reputation."

"Since I've checked on your friends, I better get back upstairs. If you're awake, the others won't be far behind."

"And then comes another chat with Eamon…"

"Indeed… they're probably already doing so."

"Hmm – I can show you the way, if you need?"

"Thank you, that will save me some time."

* * *

Nearing the study, they found Connor sitting on a bench. Looking up at them nervously, he gave a quick "Good morning" to Aedan before returning his gaze to the floor. "Papa's still arguing with them… they want me to stay out here, for now."

Wynne quickly sat down besides the boy, and gave a warm smile. "It'll be alright, young ser."

Watching her warily, he turned to Aedan and received an approving nod. "Connor, this is Just Wynne, from the Circle."

Frowning back at his joke, she returned her attention to Connor. "They just need to discuss things with your parents… would you like a story, while we wait?"

"Thank you" he replied softly.

"Let's see… what would you like to hear about?"

Slipping around the corner, Cailan watched them for a second before offering "How about something of the Grey Wardens?" While Connor nodded with some restored enthusiasm, Cailan pulled Aedan to one side. "Meet me out in the training yard, when you have a minute."

"I do remember a Warden tale that was told to me, many years ago…"

Smiling, he sat down on the other side of Connor and quickly asked "Does the story have griffons in it?"

"Maker's mercy…" Wynne sighed, as they both waited for an answer. "Yes… there are griffons in this story."

"Ah good… I like griffons" Aedan helpfully pointed out, as Connor earnestly agreed.

Shooting another frown at his expanded grin, she continued. "The Blight had ravaged the land for months, and the armies of the great kings had amassed for one last stand. As the sun burst through the clouds that boiled and churned in the dark sky above, it illuminated a vast seething horde of Darkspawn, with the Archdemon at its head. And it was then… when courage started to fail, and all hope seemed lost to despair… that the Grey Wardens came. They arrived with the beating of wings like mighty war drums, and stood before the armies of men." She paused, waiting for the inevitable interruption.

"Griffons?"

"Griffons!" Connor added with a smile.

"Yes… griffons. Now listen to the rest of the story. The Grey Wardens, grim and fearless, marched forward, ever between the men and the encroaching Darkspawn. They held that line until the Archdemon was destroyed and the last Darkspawn lay trampled in the dirt. And then, wanting neither reward nor recognition, the Grey Wardens departed. When the clouds finally rolled back, and the sun shone upon them, the great kings knew none of their men had been harmed."

"Great story, Just Wynne" Aedan said, deciding not to ask the niggling questions about it in front of Connor.

"It was - thank you, Joswyn!"

Confused by her groan and brief head-rub, he looked over and noticed the teen's wide smirk. Smiling further at whatever the joke was, Connor sprung up in panic as Teagan came around the corner. "Connor? We're ready for you, now."

As he shrank back, Wynne put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Easy, young man. Remember the Wardens – bravery will always see you through." He thoughtfully nodded, and allowed the two adults to lead him to the study.

* * *

Entering the training yard, Aedan found Cailan aimlessly slamming his sword against targets. He stood back, allowing the King to continue before he finally dropped his weapon."Eamon's far too busy with the Knight-Commander... I need to talk to someone about all this, before I burst!"

"I know that feeling... just start anywhere" the Highever youth answered.

"The Elf was still out cold, but I got some answers out of the man we took prisoner… he insists the other group were Crows."

"Other group?"

"Nobody's told you? We walked into one ambush, and while pinned down, another group joined the fray – they must have been tracking us as well… if not for the Mages stumbling across the battle, I don't think we would have made it. Do you know why we've never worried about Crow rumours?"

"No, but I've been gone a while."

"Nobody in Ferelden can actually afford them… well, nobody but the Crown."

"Loghain…"

"Precisely… as for the others, he claims to not know who hired them. It must have somehow to do with Howe, though."

"You're certain?"

"When we took him, he admitted his targets – you and the Orlesian girl."

"I… wait. Arl Urien… maybe Howe was behind their last mission…"

"Arl Urien?"

"Leliana told me a little of her last mission, before her Bardmaster betrayed her. It involved taking several packages from the Arl of Denerim's estate… some of them pertained to sensitive Orlesian interests, she didn't say what, but the others were just local stuff somebody also wanted. I'm not so certain that coincidences exist, these days… if it's the Bardmaster, why target me? If it's Howe, why target her? A package deal, as it were, implies both of them…"

"I'm not sure I followed any of that… perhaps you should see what you can find out from the man. I should make preparations for Elric.. . he charged them down, without fear."

"I'm sorry."

"Am I an idiot, if I never expected harm to come to my Honor Guard?"

"If so, we all were… we all thought the dark days had ended with the Liberation, after all."

As they exited the yard, Bodahn approached. "Ah, pardon the intrusion, my lords… but your Warden friend – is he alright?"

"He's recovering, and the healer is optimistic."

"That's good to hear, indeed… I actually have something for him, when he's on his feet." Producing a worn cylinder from a pocket, he handed it over. "Orzammar was closed off, when we arrived, so we rode south sooner than I expected. We came across another merchant, who was repairing a broken wheel. He had obtained that, somewhere, but surprisingly had no further want for it. Supposedly, it's a Golem control rod… if so, the Warden could find it quite useful, yes?"

"Not without a Golem" Cailan muttered, twirling it over in his hand.

"Ah yes, it's meant to be in a small village named Honnleath, or so he said."

"Honnleath?"

Aedan looked off into the distance, vacantly. "Isn't that south, somewhere?"

"Honnleath… a Golem… this reminds me of something. Excuse me, I need to check Eamon's library" Cailan said, still staring at the control rod.

Watching him leave, Aedan reached for his purse. "I'm getting low, but I can put something down for a deposit?"

"No need, meserre. But… if it turns out to be useful, perhaps we can discuss something later?"

"I'm sure you can reach an agreement with Alistair, if so. I've something to check on, as well. Good day to you, Bodahn."

"And to you, meserre... I hope your friends will be fine."

"Thanks, I'll pass on your regards."

* * *

_Thanks, Braindead - welcome to my ramblings. Something about a 'peace-time' softer Cousland just grabbed me - simply sparing with other pampered heirs won't get someone too far on the badass scale, after all... or so I think, anyway._


	31. Jellied Ham

"Relax, young lady. No rushing about, at least today" Wynne cautioned, trying to stop Leliana from springing off her bed as she removed the leg bandages.

"Of course… I'm just worried about the others, I heard them get Alistair earlier. Something about the prisoners… I need to make sure they don't do something they'll regret."

"He had _better_ still be lying down… very well, come with me."

Reaching the dungeon entrance, Wynne's remarks were cut short at the sight of Bann Teagan. "And you're sure about this?"

"Not really…" Alistair hemmed, looking to Kallian.

"Maybe."

"I'm sure" Aedan declared. "These doors look like they haven't been maintained since the Occupation; he could have easily escaped already if he wanted. As he pointed out, his target doesn't actually exist – the contract's void."

"Our young friend is correct" replied someone in a cell. "I can hardly dispatch a replacement King when you still have the real one, no?"

Sighing, Teagan unlocked the door and swung it open. "Fine… just get him gone, quickly."

As the Bann strode away, Wynne stepped over to the group. "What, exactly, are you up to now?"

"Preparing our latest oddball associate" Aedan replied. "Zevran here has agreed to help us with several matters."

Giving a sly nod in response, the Crow looked around the room while attaching scabbards to his belt. "Explain the situation to my handler, so no more of my order will be sent. Seek out an Elven Warden's group, check their progress and point them here." Taking another glance at Kallian, he knelt and strapped a smaller dagger to a boot. "Pass on your lovely friend's message to the Alienage Elder."

Handing over two notes, Aedan nodded. "I believe that's everything. Alistair?"

"Hey, this is your thing. So long as nobody else is trying to kill me, I'll let you handle it."

"I'll be upstairs" Wynne announced, before locking eyes with Alistair. "As you should be – your wounds still need to be checked." Leliana briefly stared at the other cell, before she followed.

"No wonder you're concerned" Zevran said, watching them leave. "So, the other business?"

"Check out that Denerim address, and ascertain the situation. It's the Market district, not the Estates, so it's most likely a Bard-master. You'd be a better judge of their security, but if taking her down is too risky… improvise. I don't know; get an anonymous tip to the City Guard about spies? "

"Ah, the intrigue of an uncertain mission. Discretion shall be my watchword." He held up his hand as Aedan offered another pouch of coins. "I already have a deposit, we shall finalise matters at a later time."

"What about expenses? Without a horse, you'll need more supplies than you can carry by hand."

"True… very well. I shall see which of the two I find first." Pocketing the bag, he gave a brief wink to Kallian before slipping through a door.

"I'm still not sure about this, trusting someone sent to kill me" Alistair finally voiced.

"Well, he was and he wasn't… he can hardly try again, now you've sent him off" Kallian offered.

Aedan shrugged in response, before turning to Alistair. "Look at it this way – now he'll be Theron's problem."

The Warden thought on it for a moment, before smirking. "Oh, I can just imagine Morrigan will be _thrilled_…"

"I'd love to see both their reactions, now you mention it" Kallian nodded, as she headed for the stairs. "Although… I'm a little worried about the other Mage with them. I may not know a great deal about the Circle, but I doubt she's had to deal with as many of those charmer-types as I have."

As he went to follow, Aedan felt a hand grab his shoulder. "How many do you think she _has _dealt with?" Alistair asked quietly, with a look of consternation.

"… Well, it _is_ Kallian – that depends on what she means by _dealt_ with" he replied, tapping at the knife hanging from his belt. "Either way_, _I am **not** going to ask."

"So… I definitely shouldn't, then?" Alistair absently thought out loud. "Anyway, moving on… what about this one? Not going to recruit him as well?" he asked, pointing at the Orlesian mercenary, still unconscious in a corner after a rigorous interrogation by the Arl's men, only revealing he had no information to offer up as easily as Zevran had.

Aedan shook his head. "This wasn't mistaken identity or anything extenuating, so no. Also… it's not just me that he came to kill."

Studying his face, Alistair gave a confused chuckle. "And here I thought you weren't interested?"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, I'm not that blind – _not her type_, remember?"

"Which I'm not… so let's just leave it at that. Move on."

"Oh sure… I will, when you do."

Turning back at the jest, Aedan raised an eyebrow. "So that's how you want to play?" Sneering at the returned smile, he asked "_Oh, how many do you think she's known?" _ in a falsetto. "I _may_ have stared a little, but you're no better than an imprinted puppy."

"I'm sure I have no idea _what_ you're implying" Alistair shot back, still grinning.

"Right… it's lucky for you that I sent Zevran off, isn't it?" Aedan asked, crossing his arms as he returned a smile.

"No need to aim low… or are you just mad _she_ has a better shot with a certain crazy Sister than you?"

Aedan's rebuff died on his tongue as they both got lost in thought about Alistair's last remark. "… Rather an inappropriate topic, for a Templar student."

"_Me_? You're the one who got tongue-tied, Mister 'Studied with a Grand Cleric for two years'. What would poor Elthina have to say about this?"

"The same as all your instructors, I expect." Pausing, his mind shifted to another topic. "Wait – since you were raised in the Chantry, does that mean you have never…?"

"Never… what? Had a good pair of shoes?"

"You know what I mean…"

"I'm not sure I do" Alistair replied, with an even wider grin. "Have I never seen a Basilisk? Ate jellied ham? … Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

"I believe he means sex" came Zevran's amused voice from the doorway. "Please, proceed - this is one of my favourite topics."

Frowning at the returned assassin, Alistair's attention was quickly drawn to his feet. "First things first… who is _that_?" he asked, pointing at an unconscious Elf on the ground.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce you. I was inquiring at the tavern about a horse, when I noticed this jittery fellow. As my instincts are usually correct about these things, I knew he was hiding something… he happens to have been spying on the town for the 'Regent'. I expected you would want to inform the Nobles, so here he is… as a happy side-note, this means his horse is now unclaimed."

Aedan reached down for one of the prone body's arms, and they dragged him into a cell. "You were gone… what, twenty minutes?"

"As I mentioned earlier, I'm efficient _and _rather lucky."

They all turned at the sound of someone coming down the stairs, before Kallian rounded the corner. "Are you coming or… what now?" she asked, noticing the crumpled form behind them.

"Zevran caught a spy."

"… Of course he did. The King's got something on his mind, and I'm getting sick of him asking why you haven't come up for lunch. You better calm him down."

"I believe you're both been ordered, my friends. Don't keep such charming women waiting, after all" Zevran replied, before leaning forward. Whispering something, he laughed at their reactions before departing again.

"… I'm not even going to ask what he just said" Kallian said, seeing their faces when they turned around. "He works fast, though – I'll give him that."

* * *

Finally reaching a table, Alistair had no time to begin on his plate of meat before Cailan sat down beside him. "I was right!"

"About what?" his half-brother replied in confusion.

Cailan looked over at Aedan, as he opened a small jar. "You didn't tell him?"

"I'm not even sure what… something about Honnleath?"

"Yes! I found some old records in the library – that Golem must belong to Wilhelm, the Mage who fought with m… our father during the Rebellion. He was given his freedom afterwards, but preferred isolation. It seems the last time he came to Denerim was Mother's funeral, so I expect everyone forgot about him. We should bring him to the Landsmeet with us – remind everyone Loghain's not the only hero from back then!"

"Hmm, what does Eamon think?" Alstair asked, scratching his chin.

"Hard to tell – he's not convinced Wilhelm will agree to it, but apparently he and Loghain never liked each other either… ."

"So... when do we start?"

"This afternoon, if possible. Since they're taking a ship across the lake to deliver Connor to the Tower, Eamon's sending a number of guardsmen with us. "

"The Knight-Commander's agreed to_ them_ taking Connor?"

"Maybe he got tired of arguing the point... it'll also save the Templar contingent from having to travel overland again, I expect. Well, most of them - you'll still have to deal with… what _are _you doing?!" Cailan barked, looking across the table.

Smiling, Aedan slid the plate back to Alistair before wiping a dripping spoon onto a piece of bread in his other hand. Looking at his meal in disbelief, Alistair shook his head. "Did you… smear jelly over everything?"

"What? You did say you've never had jellied ham."

Watching them both laugh, Cailan frowned in bewilderment. "That's… not even what jellied ham _is_… anyway... there's a decent wind, so they're preparing Eamon's ship to leave. If you want to say anything to him before they leave, eat up. Something other than_ that._" Muttering, he spun off his chair and began piling his own plate.

Shaking his head again, Alistair shoved the soaked meat to one side and picked at the vegetables instead. "Don't even think about eating that, young man" Wynne ordered, pushing the plate away. "You can have a _proper_ meal, once you lie down and let me finish an examination."

"She has a point" Aedan said, looking at the plate. "I'll have it tossed to the kennels, while you get the all-clear."

Frowning, Alistair nodded and followed as she walked over to a mat in the corner of the room. Kallian dropped down next to Aedan, making him start. "You need a collar-bell or something" he moaned, before slicing some broccoli.

"Messing with a Grey Warden's food? That's just asking for trouble, isn't it?"

"He left me little choice, so no. It had to be done."

"Naturally…" she sighed, ripping off a wad of meat from the rejected plate. Cautiously chewing it, she swallowed and shrugged. "I've had worse, but also better." Tearing a few more pieces, she dropped one onto Aedan's bread.

"Tastes like some of the preserves from the Hightown market…" he mused, finishing it off. "So, are you coming south, or going for a sail?"

"That's what all the commotion is about? Sure, the closest I came to boating was floating twigs down the drainage stream, back home. Where are we going?"

"Cailan wants to check out a village, to track someone down, while Eamon takes hiss son to the Tower…"

"Poor tyke… do you know how the Arlessa's holding up?" Looking straight back when Aedan turned to her, she nodded. "I know you had a lengthy chat the other day – servants never miss much, and they say she was oddly calmer afterwards than she had been the last week. I may not think much of how they treat Alistair, but this has got to be hard… so, what did you talk about?"

"My family, and then hers. Twenty-five years of buried problems – and dread of what's to come. Thinking about it now, I guess she meant Connor, she knew it would be discovered... I get the feeling nobody's listened to her in quite a while, actually."

Sighing, Kallian turned her chair to face him. "Can I ask you something?"

"You won't know until you try."

"How long do you think you can keep doing this?"

"This?"

"Shouldering everyone's worries – you haven't dealt with your own. You can make your jokes and smile, but we've seen you when you think nobody's watching. You're mood-swinging way too much."

"I can handle things."

"You don't have to, though. Not for everyone."

"I'm not going to shut everyone out. Cailan's probably got a civil war looming, Leliana has assassins after her, our four apprentice Wardens are staring down a Blight without their Commander… you've - well, you know your problems."

"Yes, and you've got an entire province to reclaim when everything is over. Restoration, rebuilding…"

"Highever deserves someone better – I'm just the spare child, I have no idea what to do if I go back. Anyone who would actually recognise me in that city is dead… Leonas should do it, he knows these things."

"You're giving up, then?"

"I don't know… to an extent, I guess I am. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do."

"Sounds familar" Cailan said, sitting down opposite them. "Just remember - people like us... well, it's not exactly our choice to make."

They all sat in silence, occasionally glancing at each other, until Alistair returned. "Fit and ready, she's given me the all-clear! So, who's ready to get back on the road?" Sensing their ill-ease, he rubbed his neck. "What happened?"

Standing first, Aedan dropped the cutlery onto his half-finished plate. "Just wondering… did you take the time to test Zevran's decision?"

"Test his… **no!**" Alistair stammered, looking away from Kallian.

"Alright... let's hear it. What did he say?"

"You brought this up again, you tell her!"

Aedan shrugged, pushing his chair under the table. "He was comparing the three of you, downstairs, and told us his… preference, if that's the word, would be Wynne. According to him, _her magical bosom clinches the choice_. Since Alistair was over there a while, I thought he might have more insight."

Blushing, Alistair began studying the ceiling. "I… she made me turn my head back and forward, I didn't _want _to look!"

Sighing, Kallian stood and waited. "And?" she finally asked.

"_**And?!**_ I am not having this conversation! Maker's breath… he only started because he overheard _your _question!" he yelped, pointing at Aedan.

"What question did you ask?" Kallian turned, with a slight grimace.

"A gentleman doesn't speak of such things at the table" Aedan replied, walking past them with a faint grin. "But if I see a Basilisk outside, I'll have the answer."

"So much for getting him to stop with that" she groaned, pushing Aedan's plate across to the confused Warden.

"He started playing jokes on you, too?" Alistair asked, picking up the remaining broccoli. "Finally, I have some company."

With a conspiring smirk, Cailan waited for him to begin chewing. "Lucky thing Wynne's got permission from Irving and Gregoir to follow you, then."

Dodging the clump of spat food as it continued on to hit the ground behind her, Kallian gave another sigh and pushed the water-jug over to the gasping Warden. "She... what?"

"Oh yes, we all decided on it earlier" the King replied, offering his best smile of innocence to both looks he was receiving. Turning back, after watching Kallian walk away in exasperation, he gave another grin as Alistair drained a mug of water. "If you ask_ me_, though... I think your little friend there is the obvious pick."

Wiping his mouth in annoyance, Alistair was about to say something when Wynne called across the room. "That's twice... if you're unable to keep your food down, Warden, perhaps you need another examination."

"No, thank you Wynne" he replied, glaring at his half-brother.


	32. Off to the precipice

_**A/N - pardon the delay, work's moving back into the busy part of the year. Moving to a weekend update, still hoping to keep it weekly.**_

* * *

**Redcliffe**

Lurking beside the main door, Aedan watched various people flitter in and out. Hearing a large group approach, he sighed and adopted a neutral expression. Falling behind the others, Connor froze at the top of the stairs and looked about in panic. Quickly stepping over, Aedan knelt down next to him. "Hey, little man. Not ready?"

"Nuh-uh…"

"I know… my family had to send me away for five years, it's always hard." Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a matching set of the trinkets Kallian had procured from the castle grounds. "Here, take these for good luck."

"Are they really lucky?"

Rolling them over in his hand, Aedan pointed to the engraved pattern of warhounds. "See – Mabari are always lucky. I took one with me, on my journey and everything was fine."

"I can have both?"

"Of course."

"Do you think everyone will be like Joswyn?"

"She's probably trained half of them, in her time. You'll always be able to talk to her, as well."

"Not the guards, but."

Noticing Alistair standing in a corner, inside the hallway, Aedan waved him over. "My friend here trained with them, before he became a Grey Warden."

Glancing at Isolde and Gregoir as they climbed the stairs, Alistair nervously crouched onto his haunches. "I did… the younger ones are nervous too, most of them are orphans who were assigned there, but they'll be learning. Just like you."

"And you became a Grey Warden, because you were brave?"

"Luck helped as well, I think."

Looking down at the bracers, Connor nodded. "Brave and lucky, like Mabari."

"That's right, little man" Aedan agreed, moving aside as the Arlessa patted her son's shoulder. Having watched patiently, Gregoir followed Connor as he carefully descended the stairs. Almost joining them, Isolde stopped and turned back to the young men.

She smiled sadly, and grabbed Alistair's hand. "Thank you, Alistair… you were always better than we treated you. I'm sorry." As his mouth gaped, he looked inside to notice Kallian and Leliana watching in surprise. His attention returned to the nobles as Isolde gave Aedan a brief hug. "Thank you too, _garçon cher." _Glancing at his pack, her brow furrowed before releasing him. "Keep each other safe… please."

"And you, milady. I'm so sorry."

"Likewise… remember, Redcliffe will always be here for you." Offering a last smile to Alistair, she joined the waiting group in the courtyard.

"Well… that was _weird_" Alistair finally said, watching them leave. "Shall we get ready?"

Standing in the doorway, Kallian paused. "Wait – here comes the Bann."

Teagan reached them, staring thoughtfully. "I'll be watching the village until they return… you're welcome to stay tonight and depart in the morning. Ser Perth's men could probably do with the extra preparation time, as well."

"That's a good point" Alistair replied, looking around. "I guess Cailan was too worked up to consider that."

"He's at the docks, to see them off – I'll broach it when he returns. In the meantime, I have something for you."

* * *

Arriving at a heavy door, the waiting Chamberlain bowed to Teagan and handed over a key. Opening the door, he stepped inside and began looking around. "Ah yes…" he mused, opening a large locker. "Isolde told me to be sure you received these, to help in your travels." Lifting out an ornately carved bow, he handed it to Aedan. "That's a remnant of her father's collection, left behind – something of an heirloom, I understand. Supposedly it belonged to an Orlesian renegade, a long time ago."

"Alistair, she thought you might need one of these" he said, taking down a shield that wore the Redcliffe guard's emblem. Watching him test the weight, Teagan added. "The elite shields – they're only issued for special accomplishments, or a decade's service."

"Wow…"

Smiling, Teagan finally pulled a mace from a weapon's rack. "This was also left behind after the Liberation. Can either of you use it?" he asked, offering it to the two women. Looking at Leliana's daggers, Kallian shrugged and took it. Inspecting the faded violet weapon, she swung it into the empty rack it had previously sat upon.

As they all watched it collapse into a splintered heap, she lifted the mace up and down carefully. "Does it come with a harness, or something? I'm not sure I want to carry it everywhere."

The Chamberlain stared in at the mess, and nodded bristly. "I shall ask the watch-captain… and find someone to remove your handiwork."

Snorting, Kallian tucked it under her arm and turned to Aedan "Actually… we should think about armour, if we're going to be traipsing about with a Grey Warden."

"True… Bodahn's only got a few discarded bits, so we'll have to find a smith. That's a better chance of finding something that'll fit us, too – or he can alter a piece."

"It's down by the lake, if I remember right" Alistair shrugged.

"Good – may as well be prepared. The way Luck is swinging lately, Honnleath has probably been overrun by diseased badgers…"

* * *

**Lothering**

Satisfied the well was pure; Neria finished filling the water-flasks and looked around the property. Carver remained slumped by the farmhouse door, while Anders wandered under the fruit trees with a small basket. A faint whistle drew their attention, as Theron appeared near the house.

Once they had all gathered, he motioned towards the centre of Lothering. "They smashed into all of the buildings, but it looks like most people had fled already."

"Most?" Carver asked.

"There were some bodies, scattered… you won't be able to recognise them, I'm afraid. With that filth they leave behind, it's best that we go around."

"Right… thanks for risking a look."

"I'm sorry about your home" Theron helped him stand, and tilted his head in the direction of the Highway. "Somebody showed up, on horseback." Garahel scurried around the corner, and lightly growled once. "I guess he found my trail, too. Not sure who it is, but he looks skilled, so get ready."

"A good assessment, my friend" a cocky voice came from behind them, as they looked in shock at Zevran. He stepped forward and shut the door, smirking. "I thought climbing over the roof would be too much, so I just came through the house instead." Glancing at the snarling Mabari, he held up his hands. "I've already had a tangle with one Warden; I've no interest in another – which is why I'm here. I bring a message from your happy ex-Chantry fellow."

"Why exactly did you fight him?" Theron asked, stone-faced.

"A business dispute."

Neria quickly drew her blade "I can guess what business brings an Antivan _flying _south…"

"Ah, a Crow joke – yes, you're correct. However, my contract was fraudulent so I've no further interest in the matter. Since they were kind enough to release me, I'm currently operating upon the orders of your other associate."

"Not the city girl…" Theron muttered, keeping one hand on a dagger.

"Ah, if only… no, the young lord. I'm to continue on to Denerim, after I remind you to meet them in Redcliffe."

"In time… I've still got something to do in Denerim first, so they can wait."

"Fair enough… it sounded like they had their own detour in mind, so perhaps Denerim is a wiser first stop."

"Only Alistair could think sending an assassin would help… and actually be right. Tell me - ever dealt with a crazy old swamp-witch?"

"Not that _exact _combination, but there is always a first time, yes?"

Carver loosened the hand on his sword, watching the others relax. "Well, I suppose we've back to five after all." His smile quickly dropped at a trickling sound, as he looked down at his stained boot. Glaring back at him, Garahel huffed angrily before swaggering away to sit in the shade. 'I don't know what its problem is, but really? I probably have gone to Kirkwall after all… I bet Garret's already got people lining up to kiss his arse.'

* * *

**Kirkwall**

"So, you're Hawke? Your uncle talked up a storm about you…." Meeran muttered, sizing up the younger man.

"I can imagine… so, shall we get to business?"

"Prefer to be direct, huh? You might fit in, after all. Short version: The Red Iron is well known in these parts. We pick who we work for and keep our noses clean. Anybody tries to make trouble for us, we mess them up. Make sense?"

"Got it."

"One little thing… Gamlen led me to believe there were more of you."

"Long story…"

"Then keep it to yourself. Problem is, though – our deal was based on getting a Mage. I'm guessing that's not you, so things have changed."

"How?"

"We'd have willingly paid extra, for a Mage, but since the bribes still have to be large enough to cover all the right people, I'm afraid your contract is now going to be for eighteen months."

Sighing, Hawke rubbed his chin. "Seems I don't have much of a choice."

Meeran looked across the Gallows courtyard. "Just two… and I expect Athenril will say the same thing, once she realises there's no special advantage to be gained. So – here's your trial run. Noble bastard named Friedrich is here in the Gallows. Gave us bad info, almost killed my men… if you're good enough to kill him and his men, before their ship arrives, then you're in."

Hawke nodded, and walked away. 'Improvise… ah.' Whistling, he waited for Courser before disappearing around the corner. Meeran stood in boredom; occasionally glancing about for a few minutes before Hawke re-appeared, running in panic. "Captain! Help!"

Once the pursuing minions had been dispatched by the Kirkwall Guard, Ewald turned his attention to Hawke. "Okay, what happened this time?"

"As you expected, Gamlen wasn't much help so I've spent the afternoon begging. There have been a lot of new people around today; I thought it was worth a try. I finally approached the man they were working for, and he was the worst of the lot. Started sneering about 'Stinking Dog-lords' and threatened to kill my hound if I didn't get out of his sight. Courser growled back at that, and before I could drag him away, the man pulled a dagger on us. I tried to stop him, and… his own dagger, it slashed his chest and he collapsed. The rest of them all drew their weapons, so I just ran."

"Friedrich…" Watching Garret's face carefully, Ewald frowned. "I'll write it down as a mishap… we all knew he would have an end like that, with the people he dealt with." Looking over at the Red Iron men in the shadows, he added "Hopefully I don't end up saying the same about you… go on, then."

"Nice trick" Meeran sneered when Garret returned, "but how about the actual blade-work?"

Hawke nodded to his bloodied daggers. "Took out Friedrich, and a couple of the men. Since you didn't mention how many there would be, I'm not counting them as part of the deal."

"Focused on the target, adapted to the situation and had an escape in mind… excellent. Tell your uncle I'm making the arrangements now. You've already learnt the first lesson – in Kirkwall, there's _always_ more goons."

* * *

**_Hi and thanks, Jag, appreciate it. I realised I got Honnleath's spot on the map mixed up with where you find Shale's rod, so I went back and changed that chapter. First major screw-up... not a bad record. First DA2 joke, as well - I love the game, I'm just not 'big' enough to avoid taking a shot at the parachutist enemies. At least I kept it subtle, so it'll be okay as long as I don't draw attention to it, and... oh. Happy Easter._**


	33. Of Cabbages and Kings

**Missed my new goal already, sorry - my brother was in hospital over Easter so I didn't even think about a new update**

* * *

**The West Road**

"Excuse me a moment, young lady, but could I ask you something?"

"Of course – Wynne, isn't it? Please, call me Leliana" the redhead replied.

"Your group, surely they haven't travelled together so long while being like this towards each other?"

Sighing, Leliana shook her head. "No, it's as if the last handful of days at Redcliffe have soured things." Tilting her head in Aedan's direction, she softly added "He's withdrawn even further, for some reason."

"From what I've seen, he's unwilling to let go of his pain. I tried pushing him along, but I got a spray of anger and some masked humour."

"Stubborn idiot is too busy shouldering troubles for everyone else" Kallian muttered, riding past them.

Waiting for her to pull forward, Wynne continued. "At least one of you has had enough of it. Then there's the Warden."

"Alistair? He seems much the same."

"Perhaps it's to do with his Templar training, but he seems reluctant to look at me when I try to talk to him."

"Well, that's not like him. I'll ask when we stop for the evening."

"Thank you... Leliana. The calmer he is, the easier he'll take my advice. I get the impression that boy will need it."

* * *

**The Dead Trenches**

"Warden? You in there?"

"Ancestors… it's _huge_" Brosca murmured again, staring into the abyss.

Snapping his fingers without result, Varric turned back to the others. "Mumbles, I think you might have to carry him."

"We don't have time for this!" Oghren hissed, pulling out one of his flagons. Ripping off an end, he stepped around the catatonic Dwarf and sprayed the contents into his face.

Gasping for air, Brosca wiped his eyes and painfully glared at the Warrior. Staring back, Oghren shoved him roughly away from the ravine's edge. "Move your sodding arse, Warden! If that thing spots us, then you'll really have cause to panic."

A loud screech sounded from the depths, jolting them all into a dash for cover as the Archdemon took flight. Emerging after a few minutes, Aveline gazed into the distance. "All clear… it's true, then. A Blight really is upon us."

"Well, we can't get any further this way" Varric pointed out. "I guess we have to double back to that bridge."

Staring at the imposing citadel, Sten nodded. "Dwarf, what is that structure?"

"Damned if I know" Varric replied.

"I meant him… the foul-smelling one."

"Foul-smelling? Hey, I'm not the one who spent all morning sharing around last night's cabbage!" Oghren laughed. "Really, you should have given it a name."

"Speaking of things we don't have time for…" Aveline muttered.

"Fine, fine… if I had to guess, I'd say that's Bownammar. We're getting close, either way."

"Then we press on."

With one last look down at the writhing mass of Darkspawn in the Trenches, Brosca took point. 'For all the good it'll do us… we don't stand a chance against that thing.'

* * *

**The Korcari Wilds**

"He's not giving up, is he?" Carver asked himself, piling up a campfire.

Looking over at Zevran smirking in response to whatever Neria had told him, Anders gave a low laugh. "It doesn't look like it… take it from me, though – he has no idea who he's dealing with."

"If he even cares…"

"Well, that's debatable. Do we call it an Elf thing, or a Mage thing?"

"What's that?"

"Theron and his witch-itch, now those two…" Anders replied, lighting the stacked wood on fire. "Presto! So, I guess that just leaves you without a Mage..."

"That's probably for the best – I don't think we could handle any more Mage blood in the family tree" Carver said absently.

"Right then… so, you have anybody special in your village?"

"If only… between running the farm and the big need to stay unnoticed for Bethany's sake, I couldn't if I wanted to. Unless you count Peaches, I guess."

"A girl?"

"Stunning… so naturally, she would only talk to me in order to ask about my brother. The joke was on her, though."

"He wasn't interested?"

"She was too _feminine_, if you get my meaning."

"Indeed I do… and so would Karl. He'd probably laugh about it, actually."

"He's back in the Tower, I take it?"

"Yeah – he's easily amused by things like that."

"So he'd probably get a rise from those two?"

"No, there was an unspoken rule in the Circle. You only get to laugh at Neria once, even if she doesn't hear you…"

"Which I can" she replied, sitting near the fire.

"We all can" Theron echoed, walking past. "We're a safe distance from Ostagar, but still – sound travels at night. Keep it down when the sun does."

"No rowdiness after dark – understood" Anders nodded, lifting the pot towards the fire.

* * *

**The West Road**

"It's not that I have a problem with her" Alistair stammered. "It's just… well, Zevran said something and it's a little off-putting."

"Something about Wynne?"

"After the three of you left us, down in the cells… he was _comparing _you all, and then started on about Wynne's… features."

"Her… ah. I see."

"I don't even want to think about it, I swear! It's all his fault!"

"You know… if you just take a look while she's distracted, you could get it over with."

"Take a… is that supposed to _help_?"

"It might."

"That damned Elf… do women really go for people like him?"

"Where I come from they do, oh yes."

"Huh… I see. So… you're female, right?"

Frowning, Leliana finally locked eyes with him. "I am? When did that happen?"

"I… just want some advice – What should I do, if… I think a woman is special, and"

"Here's a good tip – don't question her about her female-ness."

"Yes, good point…"

"You are afraid things may not proceed naturally?"

"Why would they? Especially when I do things like ask women if they're female."

Looking over at dinner being ladled out, Leliana sighed. "Just… be yourself. Perhaps with a little less of your awkward charm."

"So… be Alistair, but with a little 'a' at the front. I think I can do that. I hope."

* * *

"You seem troubled, Your Highness" Wynne offered carefully, while eying the mixture in her bowl.

"I'm just thinking about the current mess… especially Loghain. I knew he was paranoid about asking Orlais for help, but if it's true he seized the throne as 'Regent' – I never thought he would go that far."

"Perhaps he still has trouble letting go of what happened" Kallian replied, shooting a pointed look at Aedan.

Ignoring her, the young noble hesitantly poked at his food. "Or he's finally taking his chance for power… he and Howe probably had it planned for a while, since that bastard's now a double-Arl and a Teyrn… it reminds me of that old poem – about people who use conflict to line their vaults and land-holdings."

"If we're thinking of the same one, I'm surprised you know it" Wynne commented.

"It doesn't sound like one I've heard" Leliana said, taking a seat.

"_Let me ask you one question,_

_Is your money that good?_

_Will it buy you forgiveness?_

_Do you think that it could?_

_I think you will find_

_When your death takes its toll,_

_All the money you've made_

_Will never buy back your soul."_

As Wynne finished, Cailan nodded. "I think I actually heard Loghain recite that one year, on Liberation Day."

Dropping his bowl, Aedan leant forward on his log. "For him, and more so Howe, I was thinking more about the next part.

_And I hope that you die,_

_And your death will come soon._

_I'll follow your casket_

_In the pale afternoon_

_I'll watch while you're lowered_

_Down to your deathbed_

_And I'll stand over your grave_

_Until I'm sure that you're dead."_

"Much more fitting for those bastards, I think… except they've won" he added, walking away.

"… Hold up" Cailan called, handing his untouched bowl to Leliana.

"What is this, exactly?"

"Soldier food" Alistair said between spoonfuls. "Lamb and pea stew… I think. Didn't you encounter Ferelden cooking, in the Chantry?"

Stirring her own bowl, Kallian shuddered. "I think I miss Shianni's 'Mushroom Surprise.'"

* * *

"Wait… look, I've been where you are. Trust me, giving up will just make things worse for everyone."

"Highever will be fine, once you root out Howe. Leonas will be just what they need."

"You think the Landsmeet won't all put themselves forward for the territory? Or to take South Reach, should Bryland succeed? The only way that doesn't end in skirmishes, is you. I know it doesn't sound possible, but you have to do it… I had the same doubts about the throne, too."

"That's all well and good for you, though. You were trained for it… some days; I doubted if my father knew my middle name. Those vultures in the Bannorn will all ride north for Highever, the second they realise it's not Fergus taking over. Who in the Void _would_ respect my position? I may have been gone a few years, but I'm still the same unwanted joke I always was to those people!"

"You think _I _wasn't? Maric's idiot son, who he up and abandoned to wander about the Deep Roads, that's who I was! His idea of love was not dumping me on Eamon, no doubt to live in the damned stables with Alistair! I've been a joke for five years… 'Oh, everyone knows Anora's the real power – Cailan's just there to keep the whorehouses in business'. Don't tell me that something's too hard!"

Silently glaring at each other, Cailan finally put a hand on the other man's shoulder. "I was trying to say before… the easy way out will just come back to bite everyone. I'm not talking about the crown… will you promise not to repeat this to anyone?"

"Fine… I proclaim my silence for what you have to tell me, upon the memory of my family."

Leaning back against a tree, the King rubbed his head. "Ostagar… I knew we couldn't win a head-on campaign. Not with the available forces." Aedan stiffened, but waited for him to continue. "I had hoped to take the smallest force I could get away with. Loghain insisted, as he always does… and it's impossible to muster troops in Denerim without Urien finding out, so he volunteered. I knew Eamon wouldn't have time, if I hurried… I hoped the weather would delay Bryce as well."

"...A suicide charge?"

"A wake-up call, for everyone. Weisshaupt were taking far too long to respond to Duncan, and something drastic was required before the Landsmeet would ever allow chevaliers across the border. With the extra aid, and Eamon, Loghain and your father, I knew things could be turned around in time."

"Loghain? But he was…"

"He once made a vow to my father – never to risk forces, just to ride to his rescue. I figured he would apply the same strategy, if I positioned his forces as a second wave… needling him endlessly at camp could only help, I thought. Especially about the Orlesians. I also assigned Alistair and the other young Wardens out of the way… and when I heard Fergus would ride ahead, I planned to have him on some mission that would keep him away during the battle."

Now pacing back and forward, Aedan shook his head. "… why all of that? You could have just launched skirmish parties, and waited."

"Despite what everyone thinks, I'm not stupid. We needed the push. Besides… there were other reasons. I let myself be backed into a corner, by Eamon and Celene."

"The Empress?"

"A new method, put forward by her schemers to get a foothold… and Eamon's insistence that Anora be put aside for a broodmare… as if she were the problem – I'd have a rowing team of bastard children by now, if I were healthy. Before I knew it, pretending to consider the ideas had let them gain momentum. It would have been civil war, if either came to pass. I realised… I'm never going to measure up to my father, the only way I could be a good king was to help stop the Blight before it could really start. Rather than going down in history as the idiot who tore Ferelden apart..."

"You… all of those soldiers, thrown to the slaughter? Did you really think Eamon would stand back and allow Anora the throne? Not even her father did… knowing the Arl, he'd probably try to put **_Alistair _**forward! Your worries about a battle over in Highever… what about the one for the throne?!" Spluttering his next few intended words, Aedan stopped pacing.

* * *

"Ser Perth?" Aedan called out to the head of their escort, as he strode across the clearing.

"Milord?"

"You had better go help the King." Passing the others, he had to stop as Alistair grabbed his arm.

"What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about… I just punched him in the face a few times."

With Alistair's grip loosened in shock, he slipped away into his tent as Kallian shook her head. "Someone _finally _got a reaction out of him… just like that woman, back in Lothering. Our King doesn't have much luck with redheads…" Turning to Leliana, she shrugged. "I guess you'll probably end up unleashing upon him, next."

* * *

_Most likely granting Cailan too much credit for his plan, but he does knowingly march into a battle he can't win - according to __**Return to Ostagar. **__Plus... who sends out a scouting party that won't return until after the battle? So I decided to pick at some more little things that intrigue me._

_Recycled part of my scrapped songfic/drabble (I'm not sure what it would have been), with_ Masters of War _as the 'poem'_. _If it actually fits, I may use some more of those notes - that one did swap characters and position in the time-frame, so I'll see what happens._


	34. Shadow boxing

_Still here - just took far too long to get this chapter to where I was happy with it. _

* * *

"Good morning."

Briefly glancing over his shoulder, Aedan continued his routine of movements. "… Good morning, Your Highness."

"Is this an exercise?"

"Just fighting my shadow – Varric had some Kirkwall thugs teach me how to brawl, if I ever needed unarmed defence."

"While living in the Chantry?"

"I just studied there, and lived in the estate of a noble family. They travelled a lot, so it was mostly me and their housekeepers."

"The Mothers didn't frown, on these lessons of yours?"

"As far as they knew, I just attended exercises each afternoon… it's sort of true. I just do this every day or so to keep in shape, and practise."

"Punching at air… I guess it's no different than duelling a block of wood for sword-fighting."

"Did you want something… sire?"

"Look… I know I dropped a lot on you last night, but I thought you needed to hear it." Shrugging, Cailan sat down. "Honestly, I needed to tell someone."

Stepping back and forward, the younger man nodded once. "Aveline's reaction didn't explain why you shouldn't have repeated it?"

"She put it together, herself. Or parts of it – we were more worried with destroying the other documents, and she started reading the strategies out of curiosity."

"Naturally, she belted you."

"Naturally. Deservedly, too."

"So… all those soldiers?" Aedan asked, weaving around on his feet.

"This would be easier if you'd stand still - I took as few as I could, without it seeming 'odd'. Everyone thinking I'm an idiot bought some leeway, so I played that up by insisting the Wardens would make the difference. I had to talk Ceorlic into keeping his men at Lothering, as a secondary line if the worst happened. As a trade-off, his war kennels were emptied to my houndmaster… buying up more Mabari was how Guthrie and Woderson got involved, and insisted upon coming. Uriel's men… maybe I'm callous, but most of those I met were all thugs. I guess that's why none of them ever tried to reel in Vaughan."

"Did your plans include what have happened, if he had lived to become Arl of Denerim?"

"Not really… Urien actually arriving alongside his men was a nasty surprise. By then, it was too late."

"Hmm… not that my idea stands up to long-term thinking, either" Aedan muttered, finally walking over.

"What's that?"

"Leonas as Teyrn… can you imagine Habren becoming the second most powerful woman in the country?"

"I'd… rather not, no."

"Yeah… look, I know why it should be on my shoulders. I just need time to accept how big it seems. When I set out from Kirkwall, I just wanted to enjoy visiting my family, hopefully repair whatever made them keep me abroad for so long, and decide what would have come next. Everytime I try to think about it now… I can't handle it."

"I'm not the best one to ask for advice… I had five years, and I found myself ready to fall on a sword as another Therein reduced to a symbol. I guess I'm like my father, after all." Noting Aedan's confusion, he nodded. "He tried it a few times, during the war. I think he was also hoping for it, when he went back into the Deep Roads with those damned Wardens."

"That's another thing... what about them? Getting them killed too?"

"… When Duncan took the rumours as a means for _aggressive _recruitment, I planned for the new ones. I couldn't have cared less about Duncan, or the ones sent from Weisshaupt in the early days of their return. The Wardens are dangerous… and beyond deceptive."

"Alistair's become guarded and changed track a few times on certain topics… but dangerous?"

"He'd just think its standard security, to keep their secrets close. I managed to find out a few things, though. The ritual to join has a high chance of killing you… and they only tell you when it's too late to back out."

"Gilmore mentioned a new Knight of ours, who was recruited?"

"Jordy, I think. I assume he died during the ritual, since I never saw him after the training mission. There was another man, as well."

"… Does 'Calling' mean anything to you? Alistair mentioned it once, but his explanation seemed wary."

"The Calling… you noticed how they can sense Darkspawn?"

"I've heard that, and they were able to drag about those bodies near Lothering without getting infected."

"When they join, they use a method of safely infecting themselves… that's why they're immune. But it eventually overwhelms their body, so they go into the Deep Roads to die fighting. When their time is running out, I mean. Another thing they hide from their recruits."

"No wonder Theron seemed to hate the others…"

Cailan snorted. "Indeed… it probably would have been kinder to put a knife through him, back at the Dalish village. Not in Duncan's mind, though… even after six months, he was still lying to Alistair as well. Wait until you hear _this _part…"

Seeing Wynne step into the smaller clearing, Cailan quickly ceased speaking. "You really should let me check for an injury, Your Majesty."

Sighing, Cailan stood. "I refused her last night, since I had it coming. It just throbbed for a while."

"He hired the best… they taught me how to strike for pain, without injury. 'For when you want to capture someone, without lasting damage.' Apparently, between dropping ransom prices and making people come after you, unnecessary brutality isn't good business."

"Right… I was surprised that I woke up fine."

After a faint discharge of healing energy, Wynne nodded. "Whatever this business was between you, I hope last night was the end of it. I believe Ser Perth wished to see you, Majesty." As Cailan walked away, she blocked Aedan's path. "It's also time you and I had an actual talk, young man."

"I thought you were adopting Alistair for your project."

"Seeing that he isn't driving everyone away, he will be fine for the time being."

"She's roped you in, then… let's summarise: trying to smile is a bad thing, wanting to help people is a bad thing, and now withdrawing to grieve is a bad thing. I don't know what you all want from me, and I'm just tired of it."

"I'd like to try a different method, actually."

Sitting next to Wynne on the log, he took a sharp breath. "What do you have in mind?"

"Since you've had enough of people talking to you, perhaps it is time somebody listened. Begin wherever you like."

* * *

"So, did you talk to her?"

After a soft nudge, Alistair sighed. "Almost… but she was caught up in a talk with Wynne. About Aedan, again… do you think she prefers him?"

An odd expression briefly formed on Leliana's face, before she replied. "I _think _not, but they're both hard to read. We're not going to get anywhere if you keep stalling. She's right over there, just taking down her tent – go say something."

Alistair nodded and gingerly stood… dropping back down in frustration as Cailan walked over to Kallian, and began a conversation. "I need to get her alone, somehow. If only our watch-shifts were lined up… you and her have the one after mine. Could you… swap with me, just for tonight? You'll be on with Aedan, but he doesn't talk enough to be a bother."

"Oh, very well… but if you don't voice up this time, I'll take things into my own hands."

"Please don't… this is embarrassing enough."

* * *

"Miss Tabris, do you have a moment?"

"I guess so, Majesty. What do you need?"

"Your … campaign, I suppose, of poking and prodding at Aedan – lay off him. I've been in a similar place to where he is, and he needs time. It took me quite a while, to accept everything."

"Yes, but you had the entire country. Fact is, he's the only Cousland left – and he needs to be ready for what we're _all_ facing. We've all lost people we care about…"

"Exactly, he's the **only **Cousland left. The people he cared about? He lost _all_ of them, not just his family, in a single night. Can you imagine waking up to find everyone you ever knew had been murdered in one fell swoop? Even if I could… I doubt 'shut up and move on, there's work to be done' is going to help at all, unless the goal is to escape the conversation. He knows what's at stake, and that is more weight he has to burden. I'll ask this once: please, can you back off?"

Nodding silently, she turned away from the King and returned to her work. After an awkward moment of silence, Cailan let out a sigh. "… Well, thank you for hearing me out. I'll… be over there" he hesitantly voiced, before walking over to the guards.

* * *

"Well? You did say something, I hope."

"She looked down about something" Alistair began, receiving a frustrated look from the Orlesian. "… but after we talked about that, I decided it might at least cheer her up, so I finally gave her a flower I've been carrying around. I think she liked it."

"Good – now, go get some rest. They say we'll reach this town tomorrow."

Emerging from his tent, Aedan drowsily grabbed his bow. Seeing Alistair passing by, towards his tent, he walked over to the campfire. After splashing some water onto his face from the evening's kettle, he wheezed out a groan. "I'm not sure what the silly grin was about, but I think I was just deserted…"

"No, we just rearranged watch-duty for the night."

Squinting across the flames, he finally noticed Leliana. "Sorry… it took me a moment to wake up. This pre-dawn watch was easier before Redcliffe, and sleeping in a bed again." Jabbing a few arrows into the ground beside him, he kept one in his hand. "So – how did you get stuck with me? Lose one of his guessing games?"

"Nothing like that, he just wanted a quiet moment to _talk_ with Kallian."

"And?"

"He said it went well."

"Good… took him long enough. I thought I'd have to say something, the way he was going."

Laughing, she nodded. "I warned him that _I _was ready to do as much, if he lost his nerve tonight. She even accepted a flower from him."

"He still had that… you were okay with it?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"I'm pretty sure it was that rose you mentioned, the one back in Lothering."

Glancing over at the Warden's tent, she sighed. "It figures… still, it's better than leaving it to wilt in an abandoned garden, no?"

"That's what he said" Aedan replied as he stared up. "Looks like the stars decided to give them a decent night as well."

"Yes… it's comforting to know that they shall remain untouched by earthly troubles. Whatever happens down here, they will shine eternally – their light undimmed." Seeing him continue to stargaze, she smiled. "There's a story about that cluster of stars you're watching. Do you know it? Alindra and her soldier?"

"I don't think so. Apart from Nan's fables, I mostly heard war-stories about the rebellion while growing up."

"Well, I will tell you this one…"

* * *

"… So the gods just dumped them apart from each other? No wonder the Maker supplanted the old ones, if their own tales end so badly."

"It doesn't end badly! It ends hopefully – one day, they will be together again. We don't know when, but they will." With no response, she continued. "That story is one of my favourites – a love so enduring that it defies death, and moves the gods to action… sometimes, I ask myself: does such a love exist? Can it exist?"

"… I'd like to think so – if we can't believe in something like love, what else is there?" he asked quietly. "Even if it's just an idea, it's still one that can lift people up and make them whole…"

"I… never expected to hear you say that. It is a pleasant surprise."

"What, you didn't think I still care about people?"

"Well, there _is _a certain severity to you. Seeing a person behind it all is nice – you should let your softer side show more often."

"I thought I was better at that… I just had to make sure I don't fall apart, like in Lothering. I'm sure once was enough, especially for you."

"You're overthinking it, with _that _approach. Sometimes, following your heart and not your head can lead you to remarkable places."

"Fair enough… I was able to talk to Wynne, about my family today. I just had to be led into it first." Looking about the silent camp, he sighed. "So… do you miss anything from Orlais?"

* * *

**Thanks for the review, Rhivanna. Much appreciated - I agree: considering he's pretty much the catalyst for everything in-game, Cailan doesn't get much of a look-in. Well, apart from being a drooling moron, but there's things to work with. I expected he'd become a slightly different mirror of Alistair, until he hi-jacked my notes and wanted to go off the rails. (Of course, saying that, I've an idea for another story with the usual dopey Cailan.)**

**I think I'm done with the unintentional 'running gag' of redheads. Aveline all but screamed to get in at least one punch, and I planned that someone else would find out and do the same... when it turned out to be a Cousland, I remembered their hair and that was just something my Tabris would point out. I'm willing to let characters take over, if it goes somewhere worthwhile.**


	35. Plunging headlong

**Honnleath**

"Do you… have a moment?" Kallian asked, hesitantly. "We need to talk."

Quickly glancing about at the scattered Darkspawn corpses, Aedan pointed to a tree. "Over there – away from all these… _things_."

Leaning against the tree, he nodded. "So…"

"So… look, if I've been harsh toward you… about how you were coping…"

Holding up a hand, he paused a second before speaking. "You don't need to apologise – not for wanting to help. Honestly, I was saying much worse to myself while lying awake at night. I just… it's not easy, accepting I'll never see any of them again. I still need time, but I also need people who'll stop me going numb. Your way didn't work for someone like me, but you still tried… I guess everyone copes in different ways." Gesturing to where Wynne stood, he shrugged. "I felt better with her approach – controlled warmth, instead of outright fire."

"…I was so busy trying to say what Shianni would have; I forgot what she actually said when my mother died."

"She helped?"

"More than I thought anyone could… more than I thanked her for, too."

"So you tell her when we get to Denerim. Make sure she knows."

"I will… we're still friends?"

"Of course." Laughing after she drew him into a hug, he looked towards the town square where the Therein brothers nervously approached the stone figure. "I thought you were going to ask something about _him_, when you started."

"… We're already gossip, aren't we?"

"Trust me, you were gossip **before**… I was almost ready to step in and play proxy if he kept stalling, but Leliana finally had enough and warned him yesterday was his last chance before she forced things along."

"Sounds more like you two just wanted to meddle, than Alistair needing an actual push."

"Well, maybe _her_… I, however, am always of the purest intent. Besides… somebody had to step up, this _is_ Alistair we're talking about."

Shut up…" Slapping his shoulder jokingly, she turned to leave.

"_You_ shut up" Aedan replied, sitting down in the shade. 'Looks like Leliana knew what she was doing… where'd she go, anyway?'

"You two have a nice talk, then?" the ex-Bard sharply asked.

Jumping, he looked back to see she had appeared from the lee-side of the nearest house behind him. "Don't _do_ that…" he muttered, as he let go of his dagger. "Alistair still needs to double-check if his Warden-sense is just tingling from the ones we killed."

"I'm sure he is paying attention to what happens around him… I certainly was. You're the one pre-occupied with something other than Darkspawn."

"Huh? ... Is everything alright?"

"Just fine, thank you. How about you? Back on _preferred_ terms with Kallian?"

"Actually, yeah. We talked it over, and I think we'll be alright."

"You couldn't have said something earlier?"

"I think we both needed to think, first. Everything's sorted out, though."

"Indeed? Well, I'm happy for you…"

"… good?"

Rolling her eyes, she turned and pointed to the others gathering around the Golem. "Now hurry up. Or do you enjoy making others wait for you without reason?"

Sheathing his knife, he followed in silence. 'Why does she always leave me feeling like I skipped a chapter?'

* * *

"Dulef gar."

After a moment, they all stared at the stone construct. Frowning, Cailan smacked the control rod against a fence post and held it up again.

"Dulef gar!" Sighing, he took a step back and scratched his head.

"… So much for that" Alistair muttered, waving a hand in front of what appeared to be eyes.

"Dulaf ger?"

Twitching suddenly, Alistair pointed to a nearby building. "There's more Darkspawn, in there I think. We better clear them out before trying variations." The Redcliffe troops readied their weapons, as the Warden closed his eyes for a moment. "Feels like there's quite a few… I better lead the way."

* * *

**Bownammar**

"Nothing good will come from going that way, Warden! You'll not find anything but corpses."

Staring back at Kardol's echoing voice, Brosca shivered. "Why do I get the feeling he's right?"

"Because this _is _a fool's errand" Sten replied. "If the city will not help us, you should recruit this death-cult instead. At least they are proactive… and they would not have reclaimed any further ground without us. They owe you a debt."

"This way, we'll end up with both" Varric answered. "I hope…"

"What kind of group is this, anyway?" Oghren muttered, staring around. "The only one not moaning is the woman. At least one of you is a fighter!"

"I think I'm actually flattered" Aveline said, over her shoulder. "Especially since _he _still isn't convinced I'm a woman."

Oghren looked at the frowning Qunari before turning back. "It's damned obvious, isn't it? Although… maybe we should go somewhere private and I can double-check."

"And the moment is gone just as quick as it came…" she grimaced. "I can't imagine _why_ she left you behind."

"You're telling me!" he snorted, spinning his axe. "Who knows… maybe she didn't like that I'm the perfect height to give a human girl a good time!"

Shooting a confused gaze that quickly changed to disgust, she pointed further up the walkway. "It looks like that's the only way that hasn't collapsed."

"Aye… press on. My Stone-sense is tingling!"

"Stone-sense? I assume this is a Dwarven thing?" Sten asked as Varric passed him.

"So I'm told, Mumbles. I wouldn't know…"

Taking up the rear, Sten looked back and forward. "I'm rethinking the cage…"

* * *

**The Korcari Wilds**

Halting mid-stride, Theron glanced about. "Anders – you feel that?"

"I felt _something_. Didn't seem like Darkspawn?"

"Yeah, and it's fairly distant. I'm guessing it was some of those… ghouls, they called them?"

"This far out, they probably came from a ruined Chasind camp."

"Hmm – if there's more out there, we'll have to hope Neria can keep up that masking ward Morrigan taught her."

Leaning into their huddle, she nodded. "It's simple enough, just worry about remembering where this hut actually is. Can we move on? I think poor Carter's going to get carried away by the swamp-midges if we keep standing around much longer."

Swatting at one on his cheek, Theron winced. "Damned things… right, let's get going."

With his usual smirk, Zevran watched Carver rip a branch from the nearest tree. "Come on, my young friend. They're finally moving."

"Terrific…" he replied, swinging his leafy 'weapon' at one of the larger swarms as they clustered around his head. "We wouldn't want to keep the crazy witch waiting, after all."

"I agree – we Crows are nothing if not punctual."

"So let's hurry up and let her turn us all into toads… maybe that will get these bugs away from me."

Groaning, Anders pointed to a large pile of ruins. "That's where the treaty chest was, we're getting close now."

Freezing a swarm as it approached, Neria nodded. "Have you all decided which lucky boy gets to knock on her door, when we arrive?"

* * *

**Denerim**

As the messenger departed in a panic, Cauthrien turned to watch Loghain glower. Approaching as he furiously tore apart the scroll, she waited.

"Gwaren has fallen…"

"_What_?"

"The Darkspawn flooded out from that old passage. We had that wall specially reinforced… the mayor evacuated who he could to the boats."

"How many made it?"

"Fewer then you'd think… not all of the vessels were meant for the open sea, especially when over-burdened with people. I've had those who remained from the flotilla sent into empty estates with the other refugees."

"Blight sickness…"

"And the panic, if word gets out..."

"But we still endure, Commander." When Loghain remained silent, slumped in his chair, she stared down as her face pleaded. "Don't we?"

"I hope so… the nobles who still answer my missives are baying ever louder about their own problems, or demanding I surrender the Throne. Or that I do something about Highever… sometimes both."

"What should we do?"

"I think it's time Anora were weaned off that damned sedative… I need her help."

"Very well, my Regent. I shall post more troops to keep the estates secured."

As she turned to leave, Loghain grabbed her arm and wheezed painfully. "I… need your help, too. _Please_?"

Kneeling down, she nodded slowly. "You don't need to ask… you shall always have it, no matter what."

* * *

Rushing down the stairs, Thomas brushed crumbs from his shirt as he reached the hall. "Welcome, welcome! Pardon my reception, but I was unaware you had arrived."

A bald man stepped forward from the gathering, and accepted his handshake. "I apologise, my Lord. There was some commotion on the wharves concerning the guards and a small fleet of incoming ships, so we thought it prudent to make our own way here."

"No matter, I'm just pleased you're here." Turning to a servant, he glared. "Don't just stand there; show my guests to their rooms." Looking back to the bald man, he added "I'm afraid there's been a large problem since you accepted my father's invitation."

"We had better discuss this, then" the robed man replied, brushing away the waiting servant.

Glancing up at Marjolaine as she watched from an overhead walkway, he nodded. "It's best we talk the study, privately... ser Magister."

"Just Caladrius will suffice – lead the way, then."

* * *

**The Korcari Wilds**

"Do you think the journey will take long?"

"Lothering should only be a few days travel" replied Duncan.

"Oh, that's good. I've never seen a Human town before! From the inside, I mean… walking around in one. Do you think they'll allow me in, without decent shoes?"

"From what the chieftain told us, the town has been abandoned. We'll just be passing by, to reach the Highway. From there, I expect the journey shall take a week."

"To find your army?"

"I'm not sure who we'll find, but yes." Looking to the south, he frowned.

"Can you hear something?"

"I thought I sensed _something_, for a moment… it didn't feel like Darkspawn, but I can't imagine anyone would still be out so close to Ostagar. Not after what we learned about the battle."

"Maybe someone else, who had the sickness?"

"Hrmm… perhaps. It was a weak feeling, which passed quickly. We had better keep moving, just in case."

"Alright – I'm sorry about your friends. And making you so delayed too, I should have paid more care. Or listened better. Am I babbling? I'm sorry about that, as well."

"It's quite alright, child. This river bed feels rocky, so step carefully… we'll have to find you some boots, when we arrive."

"I never knew walking was this hard, but then I usually rode in an aravel. I never had to worry about long-distance shoes, I'm sorry."

Nodding, he helped her cross the stream. "You don't need to keep apologising, Merrill."

"I'm sorry… oh, I did it again! I'm sor… I'll just be quiet now."

"You're actually helping me focus, I don't mind – what if you talk about something else? Do you have any questions about the Wardens?"

"Oh… let's see… do you have any Griffons, at your base? I've always wanted to see one."

"No, I'm afraid the Griffons are gone."

"Oh, that's a shame isn't it? They can't send you some more, or bring yours back?"

"From what I understand, they're all dead."

"OH! I… well, that's dreadful! I'm sorry… what was yours named?"

"They died a_ long_ time ago, before I joined."

"Really? Well, I suppose that's slightly better. You can't really miss them if you never had one, after all."

"Indeed…"

Reaching a steep hill, they continued in silence until the summit. Taking a drink, Duncan studied the landscape while Merrill rubbed her feet. "… You know, I think I'd have named mine 'Feathers'."

* * *

**Thank, Rhivanna - almost crept past a certain King this page, but the idea of him trying the Fonz approach on the control rod slipped into my mind last-minute and **_**had**_** to be done. (I think I'll just call those off-rail character moments 'Cailanisms', regardless of which character it is) Speaking of hi-jacking characters, I finally had to bring in Merrill... put off exactly because I knew her intro would do this to the installment.**

**Thanks to you as well, Lynn - really appreciate your comments, and I hope you like the rest of it as it comes.**


	36. Deadlier than the male

_A/N: Finally getting to some long-planned bits, so "Drama Ahead, next two miles._" _If you can't torture your would-be pet character, which character can you?_

* * *

**Honnleath**

"Tread carefully, your Majesty – there may be more of these creatures lurking around" Wynne advised as they stepped over the remnants of several Shades.

"Right… hopefully he led everyone into a nest of them, running off like that."

"Foolish boy… far too temperamental."

Stepping through the door, Cailan stopped in surprise. "… What's with the cat?"

"Remain up there, Sire" Wynne ordered as she warily approached. "This is no cat…"

"I _am _a cat, really" it replied.

"Of _course_ you are" Alistair muttered, slowly circling it. "You can't walk through the Denerim market without a talking cat trying to sell you something; they're so wide-spread..."

"Look kid, just step away from your little friend for a minute… we need to have a talk about… a Mabari, and I don't want it getting freaked out by all the dog-talk" Kallian offered, trying to pull Amalia away.

"Not without Kitty – she's clever enough to handle it, she's so smart! She even has a special plan for us."

"You see? Nothing you say can change her mind" it gloated.

"I don't know" Leliana started, "she must be easily swayed if she thinks _you're_ clever. Let me guess, possession? You really think you're going to see much of our world in her? Even if you don't drop from exhaustion, trying to walk between towns, people will be constantly stopping you to find out why an unattended child is wandering about…"

"We shall see… unless you have an alternative, since you seem to think you're smarter?"

Snorting, Aedan pulled out his dagger while glaring down at it. "I've seen **rocks** smarter than you - living in a dream-world you can shape at your whim isn't enough, and you'd rather come to our stupid realm? Oh, you'll enjoy it _so much_! Between monsters trying to wipe all out life, and someone I've known all my life deciding to butcher my entire town… you have no idea how lucky you actually are, being on the other side. I'd much prefer the Fade…"

Staring up with a smirk, the demon's eyes flashed a brighter hue of purple as Aedan fell to his knees. "If you insist… now, it seems the rest of you have more reason to unlock these restraining devices."

Panicking, Alistair looked back. "Wynne?"

"Wait…" she cautioned, tracing a sigil with her staff. "Let me examine this first."

"That's Wynne for you" Aedan muttered. "Also happier as the teacher."

"Aedan? Can you hear us?" Kallian asked, grabbing his shoulder.

"Ah yes… Kallian, wasn't it? I'm sorry I missed the wedding party, sounded like a lot of fun" he replied absently.

Smacking him across the face, Alistair snarled "Snap out of it!"

"Oh, that's not going to help either of you" Kitty purred, walking past. "In fact, that just shook his little resistance attempt. Now he's much closer to accepting…"

"Some resistance, turning on us so quickly. I should have known he was no better than Eamon…"

"That's what I like about you, Alistair. You always have a joke…" Aedan muttered, clumsily turning his head to watch the demon as it walked back to the large device at the centre of the room. "And your optimism, obviously."

"Now then – ready to begin?" it asked, staring at the flames in one corner.

"Only if you let go of him" Cailan demanded, joining the others.

"Perhaps…"

"Perhaps nothing, demon!" Wynne hissed. "Your little illusion is taking what remains of your power, and the device is shielded from your influence."

"You see? You've no grounds to argue" Cailan smirked.

"Very well – I shall release the boy once the barrier is lifted."

"Typical Cailan – always with the dramatics, unless he gets his way" came from behind them, softly.

"Let's just be on with it" Leliana said, staring at the device. "Wynne, any ideas?"

"… Leliana? What's _she _doing here?" Aedan muttered in deeper confusion.

Once they finished re-shuffling the device's components, the group surrounded Kitty with weapons drawn. "Any further tricks and we'll cut you down…" Cailan warned.

"… Well, it seems you were right about my power, old one. I'm unable to force him out from his illusion."

After whispering something had no effect, beyond hushed whimpering from the young man, Wynne knelt down next to Aedan. "I know how to break a hold upon someone" she declared, opening a vial of lyrium. "I shall retrieve him."

"… It seems you may have to – the poor boy is unwilling to follow through on your _brutal_ advice."

After a few tense minutes, Wynne snapped awake and spun around to watch Aedan slowly stir. Slumping forward with a shudder, he burst into tears while Kitty began changing into a Desire demon. "… I _am s_orry, poor boy. Your friends insisted you would somehow be happier in this world. I'd be glad to send you back, if you-"

Letting out an anguished growl, he drove his dagger up through the demon's chest. "Damn you to hell…" he choked out as it fell backwards and collapsed to the ground. Trying to wrench out the curved knife, his jerky efforts snapped the blade off as the hilt came loose.

"That… shouldn't have happened" Alistair said, kicking at the body. "Aren't these things meant to have squishy flesh, from forming out of thin air? Isn't that why they fall apart after death?" he asked as Wynne approached.

"The ones that cross over without possessing a host, yes. This one, however, has been in our world long enough for the ectoplasm to sufficiently harden. "

"Kitty really was a monster?" Amalia finally voiced up.

"I'm afraid so, child… come along; your father is waiting for us."

Slowing turning, Aedan looked over at them. "Wynne… can you make it come back? That other thing?"

"Not outside the Fade, no…"

"What was all of that?" Cailan asked, before Wynne lightly pulled him aside and whispered her answer. "What do you mean, _everyone_?" was met with another hushed response, causing him to pale. "Oh…"

"Let's just get her back to the others" Aedan deliberately spoke over the King as he turned to say something.

* * *

**The Korcari Wilds**

Diving underneath the wildly swinging tail, Zevran spun back and leapt onto the Dragon's back. 'So much for their simple plan… now, where exactly do I stab _this_ form in the spine?'

Hissing at Surana and Anders as they peppered her face with blasts, Flemeth scattered them with a burst of flame from her maw. Ignoring the darting Mabari as it barked furiously, she kicked Carver aside mid-charge. '_Where has that Warden vanished to? I'm sure I didn't hurl him __**that **__far into the swamp_' she mused, as the volley of Spirit Bolts started up again. Ducking down between the wings as they flung up in an attempt to crush him, the Crow poured out a vial of acid onto the stem of one. With a deafening screech, the Dragon's head came with inches of snatching him with the razor-sharp jaws. Leaping to the ground, he looked up to see it coming towards him again. Garahel slammed into the assassin, rolling both of them out of reach as Carver returned. Narrowly connecting, his swing sliced away a large section of scales on that side of her face.

Glaring at her new target, Flemeth failed to notice the rushing hound as it jumped and latched onto the exposed flesh. With Carver's greatsword blocking her attempts to kick away the beast with the nearest foot, she barely noticed the movement by the water as Theron finally launched an arrow during her moment of immobility. Screeching as it plunged through an eye, she unleashed another blast of fire, sending the Elf into a panicked race to shore as the swamp-water boiled into a mass of steam.

Struggling to remain upright as Surana called down lightning onto the exposed arrow and caused the damaged eye to burst, Flemeth managed to look to one side as Zevran carefully positioned himself. Striking downward, his poisoned blades punctured the remaining eye as she caught a last glimpse of Carver warily run behind a foot. Slicing the greatsword through a large portion of underbelly, he raced out the other side just before the massive body collapsed. As she faded away, she was faintly aware of more blasts of lightning while Anders reached out to feel her waning life-force. "One more should do it, just for luck."

_'For now, little ones. For now…'_

* * *

**Near Bownammar**

"Is that it? It's got to be dead, surely" Brosca asked, eying the nearest tentacle.

"It looks pretty dead to me, Warden… and don't call me Shirley" Varric muttered, carefully stepping around another tentacle.

"They don't get much deader" Oghren sneered, pulling his axe loose from the Broodmother's stomach. "I heard rumours of these things, but nobody back home put much stock into it… looks like her reinforcements have stopped swarming. Still, let's keep moving – we can't be far now." Surveying the area, he nodded to where Aveline had slumped to one knee. "We better get her up, first."

Looking up from his quiet scrutiny of her, Sten waved them away. "She just requires a moment, and air to recover from the creature's stench. We shall join you shortly."

As the Dwarves filed away to the entrance, Aveline stood. "… It wasn't the stench" she finally whispered.

"So I expected – I said that to get them moving."

"_This_… what happened to her. How many others went through it… its unfathomable…"

"Agreed."

Pointing up to where Hespith had stood, she grimaced. "And what she was babbling… if we find this woman – will it be another of these nightmares, or something worse?"

"Worse?"

"If it's true she meant for all of this… her mind must be much fouler than any Darkspawn."

Pausing in thought, the Qunari finally nodded. "She willingly abandoned her soul, whereas they operate from mere instinct… either way, we shall strike down what we find."

"We?"

"Your tactics won that fight. They shall do so again."

Offering a forced grin, she shouldered her shield. "So – does that mean I _am _a fighter?"

With the slightest ghost of a smile, he looked at her blade. "Not with your weapon coated in their filth…" he murmured, throwing over a rag. "Beyond that… perhaps anything is possible."

Wiping down the sword, she shrugged. "Why thank you – I think I love you, too."

Groaning, he gestured toward the mouth of the cave. "We shouldn't allow them to wander without us…"

* * *

_**Finally got to do more of the other reason Merrill got shelved - originally had an idea about Sten being stuck with her, but it was feeling too similar to her DA2 dialogue with Fenris. Sten having Aveline to play off his 'eww, cooties' mentality felt much more interesting, and so Mr. Terminally Serious Duncan eventually got Merrill's enthusiasm dumped on him instead. **_

_**And yes, the Airplane/Flying High reference **_**was**_** necessary. A: Needed some levity while writing this page. B: Is there a bad time to quote it?**_


	37. Encounters

**A/N: Still here, just working weekends at the moment to cover for an idiot who got fired. (Fade illusion will be posted to the side-story, if you're curious)**

* * *

**Honnleath**

Slumped against the base of the tower, Aedan watched as the villagers gathered by the gate. "They'll be coming with us?"

Cailan shook his head, "No – once they have their wagons prepared, they'll ride ahead. I'll leave most of the soldiers to travel with them." Watching the other companions talking with Wynne, he rubbed his chin. "I think she's giving them the short version…"

"How much did she tell you?"

"It showed you your family – and the rest of us were there."

"I could _almost _hear you, and the vision tried weaving you in to explain that… you arrived at Highever, with Alistair as your acknowledged brother and Prince. I think the illusion was meant to show everyone in a happier world."

"Up until you had to…" trailing off, Cailan pursed his lip. "… We could kind of hear you mentioning us, at points – I'm guessing that's when we appeared."

"I didn't say anything stupid, did I?"

"Something about me acting like a brat to get what I wanted." With a forced smile, he asked "That sound about right?"

"… Oh right – we were talking about when you harassed the band at Fergus' wedding, to make them play some Fereldan music."

The King shrugged. "In my defence, I didn't realise they were an Antivan band hired by her parents… we both never lived that night down."

"… I've a pretty good idea what I said to the others – I doubt Kallian will take it as well as you."

"No… looks like she's coming over, too. I'll go try the control rod again."

Kneeling down next to him, Kallian sighed before continuing. "So…"

"So… I probably said something that came off incredibly awful in the real world."

"Well… it all depends on what you meant by it, but yeah."

"I could hear you guys, and the illusion created versions of you to distract me – since it was in Highever, you and Nelaros appeared. I said something about the wedding, right?"

"You wished you had been at the 'after-party', because it was _fun_…"

"Yeah, I was afraid of that… the illusion seemed to be '_what should have been_', so your wedding had gone ahead normally."

"Look… we'll talk about it later. Wynne said its better you don't get into it right now."

"Alright – just, know I didn't mean it."

Seeing Alistair watching them, she nodded and patted his shoulder. "Yeah, I know… don't worry about me at the moment."

"I hope he apologised, at least…" Alistair said when she approached.

"He tried – I think Wynne's right, we shouldn't push him."

"Even after what he said to you? You still just take his side?"

"His _side_? Are you really mad I'm not venting anger at someone who had his mind used for a toy?"

"I can see how seeing his heart's desire was a bad thing…"

"So now Wynne's a liar? You're not making much sense, whatever your problem is."

"… I'm still not sure how to put it, but I asked Leliana and she's noticed as well, so I…"

Glaring darkly, she stepped closer. "Noticed _what_, exactly?"

Backing away, he paled at her expression. "Well… I'm wondering about him. It seems the two of you have become quite… _friendly_." Staring down, he caught a glimpse of teeth as her upper lip curled in response.

"**What?**"

"I…. with how easily you let go of what he said, and what she was telling me, I just thought…"

"Did you think? It's quite pathetic, actually; after that show the three of you made in Redcliffe about meeting again, a Demon plays games with his head and _I'm _the only one who bothered to actually hear him out! I'm hurt, sure – so is he, and that's when friends stand by each other… which is more than can be said for you or her." Shoving past him, Kallian stormed over to where Cailan was staring at the Golem.

Stepping over the fence, she watched as Cailan spoke with the woken Golem. "It... does have the rod in its hand, doesn't it? I am awake, so it must…" Nodding, the King held it up.

"I _see_ it, but I don't feel anything… go on, order me to do something."

Shooting a glare over her shoulder, Kallian momentarily grabbed the control rod. "Fine – attack Alistair."

Panicking, his hand went to his sword. "Hey!"

"And… nothing? I feel nothing. I suppose this means the rod is… broken?"

"… Maybe I shouldn't have beaten it against the fence" Cailan muttered, looking it over for damage.

"So… what?" Alistair asked in caution. "You're not going to try to kill me, I hope."

"Don't be _ridiculous_… well, I wouldn't mind killing the birds – those evil birds and their foul droppings! I could crush them all!" Pausing, it looked around. "Hmm… I suppose, if I can't be commanded, this means… I have free will, yes? I find myself at a bit of a loss... what about it? It must have awoken me for some reason – what did it intend to do with me?"

Scratching his head, Cailan replied "Our first reason for coming here was to find your master… but, well… you killed him."

"Did I? I have no memory of it… I hope I **did** kill him. Perhaps the last order he barked was '_Golem! Stop crushing my head!_'" A rough laugh rumbled as they all looked at each other nervously. "I suppose I have two options, do I not? Go with it, or… go elsewhere? I… do not even know what lies beyond this village."

Kallian shrugged, "How about this? You travel with us until you decide what you want."

Lowering his voice, Alistair stepped over. "Are… you certain you want to bring that thing with us? It could be dangerous. And large."

"Just like a battering ram… think of it like that."

"Good point. Better it than me, anyway."

"Keep it pointed at the Darkspawn, and you'll be safe enough." Shooting another glare over her shoulder, she walked away. "I'd say '_Trust me_', but that's apparently asking too much."

* * *

**The Anvil of the Void**

"We're not really going to trust this lunatic, are we?" Varric asked, looking over at Branka as she sneered with impatience.

"Just let her _try_, Warden" Oghren fired back.

Brosca sighed, looking to and fro between the opposing Paragons, and his group. Turning to Aveline, he paused. "What do you think?"

"I… I'm not sure she doesn't have a point."

Frowning in thought, Sten shook his head. "Perhaps, but she has already shown she lacks the clarity to be allowed such power. Remember what she led her followers into, just from the rumour of this place."

"Even if she_ wasn't_ barking mad" Varric offered, "you really think those squabbling morons in the Assembly won't start making private armies, to unleash the next time somebody blocks their proposal?"

Snorting, Oghren grabbed the Warden's shoulder. "That's cloud-headed garbage! Even if there isn't some huge list of restrictions in the Shaperate, no Lord would throw away his guards for things that can't fit inside an Estate."

"No… they'd just force the Casteless into it instead" Brosca muttered, turning pale. "Forget it, lady. I'm with the big guy" he called, pointing at Carindin.

"You'd really squander such an advantage?" she spat, raising a control rod. "These constructs will fulfil your death wish, and **I **will save Orzammar!"

Staring at the nearest Golem as it began shakily activating, Aveline backed away. Dropping _Asala_, Sten rushed past her and gave it a forceful shove. Letting her own sword fall, she slammed her shield into the construct as he tried again. Once it fell backwards, they silently nodded and grabbed their weapons as the remaining Golems charged each other.

* * *

**Lothering**

Reaching the farm well, Carver tipped the bucket over his head. 'Let's hope we don't have to do anything like that again.' Hearing a bird screech in warning, he turned as it landed and shifted back into Neria.

"There's a pack of Templars, on the northern outskirts of town" she announced, before changing into a tannish Mabari.

Sighing, Theron walked over to Anders. "Let's just keep going –if they notice us, we'll get it over with quickly. After today, I don't care to sneak about the woods."

"Fair enough – whatever brought them here, it can't be my fault. One question, though – whose dog is she going to be?"

Giving a passable impression of Garahel's head-tilt, she padded over and stared up at Carver with a whine as he chewed on a strip of meat. "Not bad, but you have to be pushier than that" he smirked between bites. With a quick shove to one leg, she knocked him to the ground and snatched her prize from his hand. Standing again in a huff, he shot a foul look at the others as they laughed. "… Yeah, yeah."

With a look of mock sympathy, Zevran shrugged. "It could be worse, no? She could have starting sniffing at you…" While they laughed again at her display of exaggerated gagging, Carver stormed off towards the Highway. Reaching the tree-line, he stopped and gave a short, shrill whistle.

Looking over, they noticed the Templars approaching. Both groups quickly met in the clearing, facing each other carefully. Nodding curtly, Theron spoke first. "We didn't expect anyone else to be this far South."

"Neither did we…" one replied, muffled by their helmet. "I heard the town had been abandoned to the Darkspawn – what brings you here?"

"Grey Warden business" Theron stiffly answered. "It's concluded, so we'll leave you to whatever you're up to."

The apparent leader glanced them over, pausing on the two Mabari. "We only noticed one set of paw-prints leading this way – are these both yours?"

Pointing at Neria, Carver shook his head. "No, the bitch was roaming about the farmhouse when we arrived and it started begging for scraps."

Another Templar suddenly drew their sword. "Ser, I bet _that _one had something to do with this!"

Sighing in recognition, Anders waved. "Good afternoon to you too, Rylock."

"Anders…" the leader groaned. "And here I hoped you were the Wardens' problem now." Removing his helmet, he motioned Rylock to back off.

"Ah, Ser Hadley. It's been a while."

"Not long enough… have any of you seen another Templar in your travels?"

"Not since the Tower, no" Anders replied while the others merely shrugged.

"Ah… he was last seen near this town, but we've found no trace of him. Perhaps Irminric _did _proceed to Denerim, for some reason."

"Ser, I think we should still detain him for questioning – given his record…"

"Stand down, Rylock."

"But-"

"Stand. Down" he repeated, before eying the well.

"It's clean" Theron nodded.

"Everyone, refill if you need. Thank you for your time, Wardens" Hadley offered with a brief salute.

* * *

**In transit**

Sitting by the small creek, Merrill absently dangled a water-skin in the water. "I wonder if people ever catch fish, this way. Do you know?"

"Not that I've heard" Duncan replied, tying his own bag to his belt. "Especially from a mountain stream. You'd have better luck down in a river."

"Oh, I see. I suppose it wouldn't make much sense for fish to be up so high. Do you think we're getting near this cliff town?"

"It'll be at least another four days before we reach Redcliffe." Standing up quickly, he slid a finger to his lips before crouching down amongst the scrub. "Over here, and stay low" he whispered, as the sounds of a large procession grew near.

Slipping next to him silently, she peered out at the nearby road. Several men appeared from over a rise, unkempt and stained with mud. As more followed, their clothing ranged from tattered rags and furs to nothing at all. Gawking as more nude humans passed by, Merrill blushed uncontrollably. "_Mythal_…" she whispered as the group disappeared down the road.

Rising back up, Duncan rubbed his chin in utter bafflement. "… I have no idea who or why, but I expect they're bound for Redcliffe as well. Whatever their situation, perhaps we should camp here. Crossing their path would only embarrass them" he reasoned, rather than admit he would rather not get involved in whatever their circumstances were.

Taking a large gulp of water, Merrill nodded. "Why… is that some ritual, to show they aren't bearing weapons? That can't be normal, surely" she stammered, looking up and down the empty road. "… Do we have to do that, when we arrive?"

* * *

_Yeah, the Werewolf pack magically have clothes in-game if the curse is lifted... but where's the __**fun**__ in that? Sticking with that reasoning - I don't really know if Golems can get back off their back or not, but it's too pragmatic for Sten not to try it as a tactic._

_And more cameos... because the Templars must have sent someone looking for Irminric, at some point._


	38. Chitchat

**Honnleath**

Forcing himself up, Aedan walked over to the King. "Should… I should be getting my gear together, right?"

"It's a bit late in the day" Cailan said, glancing at the sky. "Plus, Wynne seems worn out after whatever she did earlier. We may as well camp here and strike out fresh tomorrow." Pointing over at the Golem as it creakily paced around, he continued "Sounds like Shale needs a while to limber up, as well."

"Shale? It doesn't look very shale-ish…"

"It says it remembers being called that. Maybe it'll get more memories back, in time."

"Fair enough, I guess. So… where should I set up my tent?"

"Hey, we've got a town to ourselves – borrow one of the beds inside. That way, we don't have to check every inch of dirt for Taint from all the Darkspawn that were here."

"Good point. Hopefully the villagers won't have minded."

Looking at Kallian step out of a house, carrying a small bucket of items, Cailan shrugged. "I think they'd be more concerned about whatever she just scavenged…"

Following his gaze, Aedan turned to see Kallian and Wynne discuss something before the Elf marched away with a scowl. "What was that about?"

"Who knows? I think Alistair said something stupid to her as well, before… maybe you should go check."

"Why me?"

"You think she'd talk to me? I may be a King, but I'm not exactly diplomatic."

Sighing, Aedan nodded. "I _should _argue with that…"

"But you can't, because it's true" Cailan ended with a satisfied smirk. "This way, you can also finish playing peace-maker from earlier."

* * *

Before Aedan could say anything, he had a bucket thrust into his hands. "Good timing" Kallian said, before pouring two bottles into the bucket.

"Vinegar?"

"Vinegar" she nodded. "How's your balance?"

"… Pretty good."

Guiding him a few paces to the right, she turned to Shale. "Alright, we're ready. Get me a lift up and we'll get started."

Remaining still as the Golem placed her in a sitting position on his shoulders, he frowned in confusion. "So… what are we doing?"

"I'm waiting for you to pass me the bucket" she replied. "Shale, could you steady me a little?"

"It seems confused" Shale muttered, looking down at Aedan.

"Oh, it's very confused" he said, turning his head away as Kallian began pouring vinegar over the Golem.

"It insists this will somehow help" Shale rumbled as the young Elf began spreading the liquid around with a rag.

"Easiest way to get this moss off you – when was the last time you were cleaned?"

"I cannot remember… will it also remove the stains?"

"Which stains?"

"Those damned villagers thought it amusing to see birds perched on me, so they would scatter seed around... the fiends would defecate upon me and… I don't want to talk about it."

"I'll see what I can do… help me down."

Once she was on the ground, Kallian sat down. "We'll let that sit for a few minutes, and then give it a good scrub."

Kneeling down, Aedan pushed another vinegar bottle out of the way. "How much of this stuff did you find?"

"Three bottles – hopefully that's enough to get everywhere. The brush, bucket… and this." Handing over a large red dagger, she pointed to a house. "I found it in a chest, over there. Seemed a shame to leave it for the Darkspawn to scavenge."

"The Darkspawn scavenge things?"

"They've got to get their weapons from somewhere" she shrugged. "It's been centuries, so they would have picked the lost Dwarven armouries clean a long time ago."

Glancing at the inscription, Aedan grinned. "Apparently, this is a cheese knife…"

"Of course it is… try not to break this one."

"So… scrubbing moss sounds fun?"

Sighing, she drew her legs to her chest. "Old Alienage tradition… it's a good way to boil out frustration while looking too busy for anyone to disturb you."

"Naturally, I come blundering over like an idiot and bother you anyway?"

"No… you're the only one who isn't a moron. I must be the biggest one of all, too."

"Hardly likely – either of those."

"… I thought they all liked me, but I'm just another untrustworthy Elf to them."

Frowning, he moved next to her. "What happened?"

"Wynne gave me a speech about 'leading Alistair on and distracting him from his duty'. She doesn't want _me _to hurt _him_… I challenged her about not giving a damn about the opposite happening and she gave some feeble backtrack about being worried for _both _of us. She had already made it pretty clear that was not the case! If she were as smart as she thinks, she would have noticed…"

"Noticed what?"

Leaning her head on her knees, she paused. "He accused me of… he thinks you and I have been together, and I was apparently just stringing him along for a joke. He said Leliana agrees with him… so I'm just another Elven whore, to them." Snapping his jaw shut in anger, he lightly pulled her into a hug as she began sobbing. "They all think so little of me… both of us… I understood with Elva, but why does _everybody_ hate me?"

"Because they don't appreciate who you actually are."

"What's to appreciate..."

"For starters, you're **amazing**. I spent almost three years studying alongside the finest society heirs in Kirkwall - you're smarter than all but two. We've been travelling with the King of Ferelden for months, and not once have you backed away from remaining honest. Maker, after everything you've gone through - not just this year, either... you can still have faith in people. Even some idiot who blurts out something incredibly stupid while dreaming."

Wiping at her eyes, she shook her head. "I've been faking the whole thing..."

"Improvising, perhaps - you can't fake who you are."

After they sat in silence for a while, Aedan helped her stand. "Shale, stand lower on the slope so she can reach."

"You… aren't going to help me finish?"

"I'll come back and scrub the lower part for you" he replied softly, before looking across the square. "There's something else I promised to do, and I should take care of that." Slowly walking over to Cailan, he took a calming breathe. "Did you still want me to show you some of what I learnt in Kirkwall?"

* * *

Hearing a commotion, Leliana stepped out of a building to see the three men gathered. "If they strike like _this_" Aedan motioned, before Alistair mimicked the movement, "do this" he added while shoving the Warden's arm away with one hand and demonstrating a quick punch to the ribs. "Should drop most attackers, if you hit hard enough."

Moving next to Wynne, she watched for a moment as they continued. "Sparring practice?"

"I believe he's teaching the King some unarmed tactics" the Mage replied, keeping her gaze on the others. "I felt it prudent to be here, should an errant strike connect."

"... Why are they shirtless?"

"I wasn't sure how long they intend to go, and they might have trouble breathing later."

"Well, yes. But does it make a difference now?"

With a satisfied smile, Wynne kept watching. "It does to _me_."

"Oh… I believe you're right" Leliana murmured. "It's better they aren't constricting their muscles, no?"

"Just so, my dear. Just so."

"So you strike down hard here, with a fist or the bottom of your hilt" Aedan explained, holding Alistair's two middle knuckles while his other arm snaked around to lock the Templar's wrist in place.. "Get the angle right, you cripple their grip."

Glancing up to where the onlookers stood, Cailan smirked when he looked back. "I _knew _it… 'proper airflow' my foot."

"Go see if Leliana will show you some Orlesian moves… I've exhausted what I remember of their tricks" Aedan said, letting Alistair back away. Mid-step, Aedan darted in and sucker-punched the other man in the gut. Watching his brother drop, Cailan nodded in confusion. "I think everyone knows that one… doesn't really work in a swordfight."

"I know…" Aedan shrugged, kneeling down to Alistair. "Just remember: you'll most likely have to use these methods on people who fight dirty, so it's better to know cheap shots yourself." Once the King walked away, he leaned in to whisper. "After all… nothing's more _painful_ than letting your guard down, just to be struck hard and low. She told me what you said, and you're an utter bastard."

Struggling for air, Alistair glared back. "_Me_?"

"After everything that happened to her, she somehow let you past her barriers… you're quite lucky, actually. Right until you repaid her faith in you by throwing it in her face, that is. Get up, grow up, and go apologise. _Maybe_ she'll forgive you…" After helping Alistair to sit on the fence, Aedan grabbed his shirt and turned to leave as Wynne marched over. 'Scowl all you want, I'll do it again if need be' he thought as the Mage shot a look at him, before checking on the Warden.

* * *

Crossing the square again, he found Kallian and Shale in discussion about a small pile of crystals. "Let's try the blue ones, for now" Shale rumbled.

"Alright, hold still and I'll swap them around." Once finished, she turned around to explain. "I went back downstairs and grabbed some of those crystals we saw. Turns out they were designed to boost Shale's… what did you call it?"

"Augmentation – they allow Golems to feed off and alter ambient magic fields. Wilhelm found some old notes on the practise and thought he could improve upon it. Typical arrogance… anyway, what does it think? They don't make me look any wider, do they? I find I am already too wide as it is."

Giving a quick glance, she shook her head. "No, no, they're quite slimming"

"They _are_, aren't they? I so adore them! I think it should find some more as soon as possible. I want to glitter from ear to ear... so to speak!"

With a bemused smirk, Aedan grabbed the bucket. "Absolutely – and once I finish the scrubbing… trust me, you'll be the prettiest Golem at the dance!"

"Surely it realises I would not _dance_?"

"From what I understand, nobody really dances at a dance. They split into groups and insult the others" he shrugged, splashing some vinegar on a leg while Kallian quietly slipped away.

"How bizarre… I think I would be in a corner, deciding whose head I wanted to crush first."

"Hmm… you'll fit in at the noble gatherings, then. Loghain does the exact same thing, just with more scowling."

"This is another Golem you speak of?"

"Knowing him, he probably wishes he could be a Golem…"

"Well, _naturally_. Does it not want to improve itself in the same way?"

"Becoming a Golem? Even if there were a way, I'm not sure I deserve the honour. That's for finer beings, like you… lift your foot."

Watching as he inspected the stone sole, Shale paused. "It is …odd. Not like the other Humans I've had to listen to, with their misplaced confidence."

"I get that a lot… you can put your foot down."

"Is it from an Alienage, too? That seems to be why the Elf is superior."

"No, I came from an important family so I spent a lot of time with the finest teachers they could hire."

"Hmmph – Mages, no doubt."

"No… well, unless you count Wynne. She's apparently become our teacher."

"It refers to the elder Mage? Yes, it does seem overly sure of its opinions… _it_, however, seems the superior of the two."

"The superior it would be me?"

"Correct - I would appreciate it if it didn't spread around that I said anything. Humans might start to get the wrong idea. They might start thinking their race is not completely hopeless."

"Maker forbid… don't worry, that'll stay between the two of us."

* * *

_**A/N - apologies for the delay, and a 'nothing' chapter. Had a death in the family, so I needed a break. **_

_**Thanks to everyone reading, and a welcome to Grey Jackett. I'm still kind of amazed at my traffic figures, especially for a first effort... hopefully I can get back to a decent update routine. You all deserve better for sticking with it.**_


	39. Further chitchat

_**A shorter one, this time - getting the groups moving again.**_

* * *

**Honnleath**

Absently rubbing his knuckles, Aedan looked up as Kallian returned. "Hey."

"Hey. So Wynne just told me something interesting, in between glaring at your back."

"Oh, that. It was the oddest thing, somehow Alistair... ran into my hand."

"She may have mentioned that in passing – you'll be getting an earful later. '_Hurting my little Alistair in his precious gut_' and all that."

Snorting, he nodded. "I expect so. Maker forbid the Healer has to actually heal someone, it cuts into her lecturing time."

"So… I guess my question is why? "

"Why the punch? Someone had to do it… or maybe he was acting too much like I used to. I don't know, I guess."

"Because he didn't trust you?"

"I don't care about that… maybe I'm just tired of seeing my friends hurt."

Sitting down next to him, she paused. "So you sucker-punched the one you've known for years?"

"… Yeah, well – I never said it was a thought-out plan. I guess I feel closer to you, even if I met him a long time ago. You and Varric are the closest friends I've ever had, actually…"

"You can't have been _that _lonely growing up…" she replied, before he silently nodded.

"The people I knew back then… we only knew each other because our families did. I'm not sure that really counts… most of them hated me, but we'd fake it whenever our parents visited one another."

"Sounds like a few children I used to know… still, though. We only met by random chance, and _I'm _top of the list?"

"We would have met eventually – didn't you get introduced around Highever, before… the wedding?"

"No – I didn't even meet Nel beforehand. Most Alienage marriages are arranged, and it's uncommon they really know each other."

"Ah… sounds familiar. Most noble marriages are pretty much the same. Like Cailan – he and the Queen were betrothed when he could barely walk. I think my brother was one of the few exceptions."

"What about you?"

"My mother seemed impatient to marry me off, but I don't think anything was in the works… there were only two daughters close to my age – one was a cousin, and the other may as well have been, considering how much time our families spent together. Like I said, they both detested me regardless. Despite all that, the Bannorn might have raged if another Cousland married a foreigner, or a commoner – mostly out of 'tradition'. Who knows?"

"… You were free to marry anyone, except you weren't?"

"Something like that, yeah. Growing up, I always thought I would have eventually been married off as part of a trade deal or a treaty – probably to someone's daughter from the Marches."

"Didn't you meet anyone, while you were travelling?"

"Not quite sure… I grew up knowing that I was the highest prize left, as the last available child of a Teyrn, so I never trusted the sincerity behind any interest people had in me."

Sneaking a glance across the clearing, she shrugged. "But you must have had an interest in s_omebody_, in five years?"

Sighing, his look at the other travellers was more obvious. "Occasionally… women like that, however, they invariably have no interest in a whiny, depressed boy like me."

"Give yourself _some_ credit, already… you'll be surprised."

"Hmm – hardly matters now, does it?" Shaking his head, he tipped the empty bucket onto its side. "Once I take back Highever, I'll _have_ to arrange an alliance wedding with someone… Alfstanna, I guess. Our families were always on good terms, and she isn't that much older."

"What about that other girl, the one near our age? Maybe she's grown up and doesn't hate you."

"… That would be Delilah – Howe's daughter."

"Oh… Yeah, I would imagine that's off the table."

"Off the table and out the window… at least I did one thing right."

"What's that?"

"Even if I didn't smack some sense into him, all of Alistair's anger will be on my head… you can decide if he's worth it."

"Not much of a victory for you, even if he does wise up."

"It's more than we have now – that's enough for me."

"You're a weird one, sometimes."

"So I hear… come on, enough of this heavy stuff." Looking at the murky sky, Aedan stood. "I think it's my turn to cook tonight, too."

"Oh… good."

Raising a brow at her smirk, he helped her up. "You've something to say?"

"Well – not to disparage my self-adoptive brother's sense of taste, but…"

"Is that what I am now?"

"Aren't you?" Jabbing his shoulder, Kallian walked past. "Hey, I think you would be a great brother!"

"Thanks – you'd make a pretty good brother yourself."

* * *

**The Anvil of The Void**

Backing away from the shattered Anvil, Brosca flung the hammer over the same ledge Caridin had stepped off. Returning Aveline's nod, he approached the others by a carved pillar.

"I'll take a copy of this back with us, Warden."

"Oghren… I'm sorry."

"Aye – so am I. I hoped… well, she was too far gone." As the younger Dwarf struggled for an answer, Oghren slipped the paper into a pocket. "Come on, I've had enough of this place. And you still need to shove that sodding ornament on somebody's head, if anything's going to get done."

"Yeah… then I just have to help cut through enough Darkspawn to kill that _thing_."

Looking up, the Warrior frowned. "You scared, Warden?"

"… Terrified" he whispered.

"Good. That means you're sane enough to know what's ahead of you."

"That's… not the answer I expected."

"I ain't the type to give you a speech, Warden. This will probably turn out to be the **easy** part, but recognising that will help stop you from charging in without having a damned good plan first. Fear's only a problem if you let it take you."

Muttering something in Qunlat, Sten gave a curt nod as they looked up at him. "_The warrior who knows fear and fights on is truly brave_."

Turning back, Brosca waited for Varric to finish his calculations. "By my count, we've got enough provisions to make it back – if we make good time."

"Right…" looking around the group, the young Warden scraped his bottom lip with his teeth. "… Here we go" he added as they stepped back into the network of tunnels.

* * *

**Lothering **

Ignoring the others as they relaxed by the Highway, Theron slipped over to Carver. "I'm hoping you can ride?"

"Of course I can" he replied with a hint of indignation.

"Good – I want you to take that" Theron motioned at the horse Zevran had left under a tree, "and go to Redcliffe. Find Alistair, the blonde Shem if you remember him, and let him know I'm continuing on to Denerim."

"Me?"

"Neria's meant to be under Warden supervision, if more of those over-armoured idiots come bumbling past us again. That leaves you as the only one I can trust to see it done. Anders will most likely fool about and take a detour somewhere, from what I've seen. As for the Crow – do I even need to explain?"

"Makes sense… when?"

"Whenever you're ready. You know the way?"

"I'll just follow the road west, that'll get me there."

"_Dareth shiral_. Hopefully your road is safer than ours."

"I expect we'll be fine – the 'Spawn all retreated south." Returning after he had mounted up, Carver offered a handshake. "Good luck, then."

"You too."

Giving a quick wave to the others, he turned his steed and rode away, barely hearing Neria call out. "See you around, Carter. If you see them, give my regards to the werewolves!"

As he encouraged the horse to a decent speed, he frowned and began muttering to himself. "How many times do I have to correct her, before… **_werewolves?_**"

* * *

_Almost where I want to be, both location and character-wise - Haven ideas have been getting impatient, the last few weeks. _

_**Thanks,**__ Melysande - much appreciated indeed. And Norme, welcome to the show._


	40. Sleeping arrangements

**Honnleath**

Sniffing at the baskets as he lifted one off the supply wagon, Aedan sighed. Looking over from his own inspection, Ser Perth gave a low chuckle. "I take it you're as sick of salted meat and turnips as I am?"

"Especially today… I heard some game birds earlier, too."

Frowning, Perth looked around before continuing. "Begging your pardon, milord, but I've seen your aim. Couldn't you have caught some?"

"I **did** think about it… but I'd rather not risk cooking up something that might have just caught Blight sickness."

With a defeated groan, the Knight slowly nodded. "Aye… I better remind my men of that, in case they get a similar idea."

"Sorry for mentioning it, Ser. I'm just distracted by the thought of a fresh meal."

"We'll survive, milord – even if we have to impound Lloyd's better quality meat-stock when we return."

"Sounds like a fair plan… good evening, then."

"And to you, milord."

* * *

Scooping his culinary efforts into bowls, Aedan glanced up as Wynne approached. Holding out a bowl, he gave an unconcerned smile at her disapproving frown. "Don't worry; I boiled them twice this time."

"I'm more troubled by your _other _attempt to destroy a stomach, young man."

"Mmmhmm" he replied, turning back to the fire. "All you need to know is that he had it coming."

"I doubt that very much."

"Of course _you _do. Pardon me if I don't share everyone's piss-poor outlook on Elves. Actually, Cailan's better than the rest of you… and he's the one who would have made sense to be high and mighty toward Kal. Somehow, I expected a Mage to have more tolerance, rather than talking to her like trash."

"It sounds like you heard a rather skewed version" she sighed. "She took things the wrong way."

Moving down the log, he waited. "Perhaps I did… please, continue."

"I was not aware of her history, until Leliana explained matters to me after her reaction. I… can see how my wording offended the poor girl, but I still have my misgivings."

"Which are?"

"Alistair is one of the few remaining Grey Wardens in Ferelden, and has the burden of seniority over the newer recruits. Two of them are strangers to anything outside their cultures, from what little I understand… and there's Anders. **That** boy… well, he would not be my choice for such an undertaking. Perhaps it's for the best if they not pursue whatever feelings might be growing, to avoid greater hurt later on."

"… I'm not following."

"Love is ultimately selfish – what if he faces a choice between saving her, or ending the Blight?"

Snorting loudly, he stared at her with a look of disbelief. "Are you expecting the Archdemon to come swooping down and kidnap her? I can see it now…. '_Heed me, Warden! I'm going to bite this Elf's head off if you get in my way!_' No offense, but I think you've read too many Orlesian melodramas about the Imperium."

"You're being ridiculous…"

"Me? I won't argue that Alistair's got a daunting task ahead of him, but how is shutting away from the world going to help? Frankly, I think he'll do better with someone who he can think of when things get dark."

"There's no certainty, not in these times. What if he has to face seeing her lost?"

"… So he should abandon a chance at love? Where's the logic there? You're right about how things currently stand, but they should take what happiness they can get… even if it doesn't last, they'll have done better than the rest of us."

"… I fear you're taking too simple a view, there is a larger scale to consider."

"My father used to say the world isn't worked out by grand designs, it's by people living their lives and doing what they can. I think I understand what he meant, now…"

Looking up at the darkening sky as a gust of wind blew past, Wynne lifted herself up. "It seems we'll reach no mutual agreement… I think I shall retire and dine indoors tonight."

"Alright… just remember, you can't come and hex me later if you don't like the meal."

"Oh, that's a shame" Alistair muttered, sitting down on the opposite side of the fire. "I was hoping it was 'Frog Time' for you." Giving both youths a pointed stare, the Mage left while the others slowly arrived and passed bowls to each other.

* * *

Shivering at another wind blowing past him, Cailan put down the bowl and held his hands out to the fire. "Seems we picked a good night to be out of the weather. About tomorrow, I was thinking – perhaps we..." Before he could finish, a massive downpour of rain fell upon them.

'The old bat knew this would happen…' Aedan muttered inwardly as freezing drops struck his neck, running for the building where he had stashed his pack. Reaching the eaves, he jumped in surprise when a voice rumbled from the shadows.

"Is it really so scared of the weather? How disappointing…"

"Shale? How long have you been standing there?"

"**Decades**…"

Rubbing his forehead, he tried again. "No – in _this _spot, I mean."

"Shortly before the Elderly Mage collected its meal. I've stared at the sky long enough to recognise when something's going to happen."

"If the two of you are quite done gossiping about the weather, please let me pass" Leliana groaned. "I'd rather not catch something, standing out here."

Watching her slip around them and into the building, Aedan shook off his confusion in time to catch the door before it shut. "Wait – I picked this one."

"Well, I picked it first" she replied with satisfaction. "While you were washing down Shale."

"… There weren't any packs or anything when I came in, are you sure this is the same house?" Pointing up to a roll, neatly placed on top of a wardrobe, she nodded. "How was anyone meant to spot _that_?" he moaned.

"They _weren't_ – besides, I have some valuables in there and I'd like to keep them intact. So I keep them out of the way, when possible."

Looking at his own pack, still in the dusty corner he'd simply thrown it into, he frowned. "Alright, you win…" Opening the door, a blast of wind flew around them as they stared out at the intensified downpour.

"… Fine, you can stay in here tonight."

"Urrggh!" Shale exclaimed, slowly walking away into the blackness. "Enduring a coupling underneath me once was bad enough; I've no desire to hear it fornicate with the Sister." Having no idea what reaction to give, Aedan walked away and began unfurling his bedroll.

"What are you doing?" Leliana asked, after bolting the door.

"You're taking the bedroom, right? I'll just camp out here."

* * *

**Somewhere (It edited away the line-break combo, and they're just 'somewhere on the map' so yeah)**

Finished with his tent, Theron gave another look around the clearing. Sighing, he walked over to Neria as she set glyphs around the campsite. "If she comes back from whatever she's doing, give her this?" he asked, handing over the Grimoire. "After the last two days, I'm just going to collapse for a while."

"Fair enough – I'll wake you for watch-duty." Continuing around the perimeter, she stopped when Zevran stepped into her path. 'What now? If he makes a crack about _talented fingers_…'

"Pardon my intrusion, but I'm faced with a problem."

'Maybe he can make actual conversation…' "What's the problem?"

"When our well-built friend departed, he neglected to let me collect my supplies."

"We'll be okay for food, don't worry."

"Yes, I can see that… unfortunately, he also took my bedroll." Looking up at the looming clouds, he shrugged. "And this hardly looks like a suitable night to sleep in the open air, no?"

'Oh, here we go…'

"Perhaps, if you felt charitable, we could share your tent?" the assassin asked with a wink.

Rolling her eyes, she pointed to an unclaimed tent which was under investigation by Garahel. "Not to worry – I had Anders set up Carver's old tent for you, over there. You should probably lay claim before _he _lays claim to it."

"How nice… well then, maybe next time?" he said with a smirk, before sprinting over to shoo away the unimpressed Mabari, which glared as Zevran crawled into the tent. With a snort, Neria watched the warhound slowly slink back and carefully deposit a dead animal by the tent's entrance.

'Clever boy…' Giving an approving nod, she went back to her task. Stopping by Morrigan's edge of the clearing, the hoot of an owl made her glance up. After the bird's yellow eyes checked the surroundings, it floated to the ground and transformed.

"I see we have picked up another straggler?"

"Your favourite Warden sent him to help, actually."

"No doubt he has some horrible affliction that will hinder us, knowing that fool's judgement… and your reaction to him, just now" Morrigan assessed with a snort.

"He claims to be a hired assassin, and _the fool _apparently thought it prudent to keep someone in that profession away from the King."

"Oh, _marvellous_… I shall continue preparing my own meals, and so should you from now on."

"He was useful, I'll give him that much…" Holding out the book, Neria continued. "Helped us retrieve this, after all."

"Mother's real Grimoire!"

"I had a quick search through the hut, and that's all I found."

Flipping through the pages, Morrigan nodded before looking around the clearing. "'This _is _the book. I thank you…" Closing the cover, she paused for a moment. "I… the farm-boy did not survive, then?"

"Farm-boy… oh, Carver. No, he did – Theron sent him on to Redcliffe, to deliver a message."

"Ah – I may not have understood his need to watch over his sister, but…"

"You liked his determination?"

"Indeed – and his lack of regard for anything the Templar tried in order to run him off."

"You're not going to say he should have just killed him?"

"**That** would have been the obvious solution, 'tis true… but I suppose the foolish girl did allow herself to be taken in the first place. Is there much point, trying to save someone who has no interest in freedom?"

"Not if it involves charging at highly-trained swordsmen, without backup. I'll have to give him credit for his determination as well – the transformation freaked him out, but he kept fighting."

"The dragon form, I expect? She always liked a chance to show it off."

"I did get that impression… thinking about it, I'm wondering if she _let_ us win."

"Perhaps she did – as I said, she has died before. Still… even her games are deadly. It must have been a terrible battle, and you still fought it; despite knowing there would be no reward."

"The reward was that I saved a friend."

"… And that I do not understand. Of all the things I could have imagined as a result of being told to go with the Wardens, the very last would have been that I would find a friend… perhaps even, a sister. I just want you to know… while I may not always… prove worthy… of your friendship, I will always value it."

Letting her finish and regain composure, Neria simply put a reassuring hand on one shoulder. "So will I… look, I'll get back on watch – and let you read in peace."

"I… yes, I shall begin studying it immediately… to be ready for when she returns – for she will, I have no doubt of that."

Giving a soft smile, the Elven Mage stood. "She can try… I'll have some Arcane Warfare waiting, just for her."

"You… have no idea what will happen in days to come, to make such promises. Focus on the Blight, for now – there is much to be done, before… well, there is still much to be done."

* * *

**..Somewhere else  
**

Hitting the muddy road with a muttered curse, Carver slowly sat up. 'Well, that damned horse is probably not going to stop... I hope it slips and goes over a cliff. Had the stupid thing never heard lightning before?' Getting to his feet, he glanced into the night. "And all of my gear is strapped to it... _why_ did I agree to this?" Shaking the water from his hair, he cautiously stepped along the wet slope. "I just _know _everyone else is nice and dry..."

"Are you lost?", came a soft voice from the darkness. Panicking, he ducked down. "I can't imagine what you're doing out here, but it's nice and dry in our cave." After the sound of a horse-snicker, the unseen person asked in a trill "... Do horses _like_ caves?"

'Sounds like they actually expect an answer... sounds like a kid, too' he mused, standing up. "Is my horse over there?"

"Well, _a_ horse just wandered over... perhaps it is yours? It's got quite a large sword, with it."

"Then it's mine - hold on, I'll come over!"

"Alright... mind the step, it's gotten so muddy tonight."

Feeling his way along, he finally spotted a slender figure standing by the horse, against the low light of a fire behind them. Brushing dripping hair out of his face, Carver finally made it over to them. "There you are..." he muttered, lifting a drenched pack from the horse.

"Oh, you're soaking wet!" the Elf exclaimed, staring at his shirt.

"Yeah, my lovely horse threw me off back there. At least she didn't go too far with my equipment... not that a tent will do much good now" he replied.

"We've plenty of space, in the cave... but maybe I should check with Duncan first... I'm sorry, do you mind waiting a moment?"

"No, go ahead... it's not like I can get _more _wet."

"I heard from inside", a man answered, "and yes, you're welcome to come out of the weather."

With a grateful nod, Carver followed them to a small fire. Sitting on a rock, he looked up to notice the man studying him carefully. "Thank you, for this... I'm not sure why I let him talk me into this. But I guess that's Grey Wardens for you..."

"Grey Wardens?" the other man asked.

"I keep running into the same ones... but then, it's not like there's a lot of them so of course it's always them."

"Oh, so some of the others lived after all? That's good news" the Elven girl said, coaxing the horse to the cave-mouth. "... Was there a Dalish with them?

"... Theron" he offered, looking back and forward between the two. "I take it you know them?"

"Well, I know Theron but I haven't met anyone else yet. Duncan would know the others, of course."

"Merrill..."

"Oh, right... I forgot."

Glancing over at his sword, Carver frowned. "... Just who are you?"

Sighing, he sat forward. "I'm Warden-Commander Duncan... with what I've heard of Ostagar, I wasn't sure about announcing the fact."

"You're the one who never turned up... I remember the other soldiers talking about you."

"Correct... is it true?"

"I'm afraid so - they drove straight at the Warden positions. Those recruits who were sent to the beacon were the only ones to survive."

"Recruits?" Rubbing his chin, Duncan sat further forward. "Grigor must have found someone... what can you tell me about them?"

"Well, I didn't speak to all of them... there's a Mage, I didn't hear his actual name but he calls himself 'Anders'... 'and my name's _Fereldan_', I told him. I was travelling with him and the Elf. Theron, as she said. He sent me on to report to another Warden in Redcliffe... Alistair, I think."

"Ah... good."

"Oh, and the Dwarf Warden. I don't remember hearing his name, but his group went to Orzammar. They're all chasing down some treaties, or something like that."

"Treaties... yes. That would been my next move, too. Alistair's in Redcliffe?"

"So I'm told."

"Another reason to head there, then... I'll take first watch, at the entrance. Use my roll, for now, and you can keep guard after me."

"Sounds fair..." Carver nodded as he walked away.

Tossing an apple over, Merrill sat by the fire. "Just in case you're hungry... sorry, I don't know your name. Is it rude, to ask someone's name?"

"Rude? No... I'm Carver."

"I'm Merrill. Carver... that's an odd name. Is it because you're good at swording?"

"Swording?"

"Doing..._ things_, with a sword. They look so tricky to handle, are they hard to learn?"

"It takes a lot of practice..."

"Well, with a name like yours, you must be good at it. I bet you're of the best sworders!"

"I..."

"Did I say something wrongly again? Duncan doesn't say, but I can tell he notices."

"... I better get some sleep, so I can relieve him later."

"Oh, of course... I should probably stop talking for a while, anyway." Peeling off his soaked shirt, Carver placed it over a rock by the fire. After getting his boots loose and tipping them over to drain, he slumped onto the bedroll.

Watching him nervously, Merrill finally voiced up again. "If you're going to Redcliffe, does that mean you'll be getting naked too?"

Sitting up in shock, he just stared at her for a moment. "**_What?!_**"

Duncan had turned around, with a bemused expression. "That is a _very _long story... I'll explain tomorrow. And Merrill, I've already told you: we won't need to copy _them_ when we arrive."

"... Oh, you were just taking off your wet clothes, weren't you? I should have realised, sorry... I guess you'll only be getting undressed if you feel like it."

Rolling away from them, Carver stared at the cave wall. 'Just once, I'd like to meet new people who **aren't** barking mad...'

* * *

**_So, that comment I made about stepping up my chapter output? Yeah... Murphy's Law gave me a few days, before hitting with a sudden need to move homes. Still, loving a house after living in a unit for seven years._**


End file.
